Half Full

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"Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug."

~ late night text from a friend


To use that same friend's vernacular - Word. Today I was more than the bug. I was a swarm of gnats and the windshield was that of an exceptionally large 18 wheeler. It was a shitty day, certainly no shittier than many recent days, but shitty nonetheless. I hate saying that my life is shit, but it is. Shit. Plain and simple. I try very hard to see the positive, but it's really, really difficult right now. Lest everyone think I've gone completely negative, I'm still a glass-is-half-full person, it's just that the glass in question doesn't happen to be my glass.

And I have no idea when it will be my glass.

This isn't me. With rare exceptions, happiness comes easy to me. I guess this is one of those exceptions. I don't like it. I don't like being unhappy. In fact, I fucking hate it.

To add insult to injury, I'm out of rum. Yes, par for the course.

I promise I'm trying very hard to change my shitty status quo. In fact, I'm trying so hard that I'm exhausted. So exhausted that I don't feel like trying anymore. If that isn't a shitty Catch-22. I'm so tired from trying that I don't want to try anymore. The last time I was this tired... Well, that's not something I'm allowed to talk about. Suffice it to say, it didn't end well. For me. Even though everyone else breathed a big ol'e sigh of relief.

If only I could live with unhappiness.

Fuck that half full glass. Either way I'm out of rum.

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