I’m in a spot. It’s a dark spot. I’d say it was a santorum but nothing really enjoyable immediately preceded the spot. Right now I can’t seem to care about – well anything.
Yesterday a dear old friend called me from her hospital bed and told me first why she was there and then other troubles going on, but I can’t seem to care about it. I still took steps to spread the word to some of our other friends so she’d get a few calls, but honestly it couldn’t pierce the fog I’ve managed to wade into.
A few other friends have recently gotten engaged or made their relationship “Facebook Official”, and again it doesn’t seem to matter too much to me. These I understand a bit more having only been a month ago dumped.
The boss sent me an email and it took me reading it probably more than five times before I saw that he wasn’t firing me, but was worried about me. I’m in a spot. It’s a deep dark spot and I hate it.
What I hate more than being in a spot is people who complain about being in a spot – so at present I doubly hate myself. I’m going to sit here and whine about this that and the other thing and that really isn’t productive – I hate people like that. But, I’m in a spot, so I’ll probably whine a bit more.
There a probably lots of things to be happy about: a new Avengers: Earths Mightiest Hero’s is likely downloading tonight or tomorrow, I’ve been able to watch Game of Thrones, I have friends that I’ve known for over 20 years that call me when they are in the hospital cause they know I (normally) care, I have friends that I’ve known almost twenty years that tell me I reacting normally, I have friends… yeah, all those things are probably things that should make me happy, but mostly today all I wanted to do was cry and sleep. Sadly, I’m in a spot.
