and thus we enter the portion of the evening where i am seriously beginning to second-guess everything.
crapfuck.
and thus nothing is spared from the psychotic brain-weasels in my head that love to rip everything to unidentifiable shreds. one would think that i’d be so busy trying to keep all the gears & cogs of my life running smoothly that i wouldn’t have the time for this kind of introspective, petulant, alarmist bullshit. but, hooray for neuroses, they always make the time to pop in and say “hey there little buddy, fuck you!” ain’t that grand?
because really, i don’t have too terribly many complaints right now that aren’t of a purely superficial nature. (knock on wood) nothing too tragic or soul-consuming at the moment. that, coupled with the increasingly warm, spring-like weather we’ve been having lately should make me a happy camper…but no…in comes the dread.
i hate the dread…it’s always fucking there. no matter what i do. no matter how i try to distract myself, there it is. it lurks, it feeds, it grows stronger, and then it pounces. fucker.
and thus comes the endless doubt (who is, as it turns out, best friends with the dread): am i fucking up at home? am i fucking up at work? job #1? job #2? am i the fuckup in all my friendships? have i fucked up my relationship too much already? have i fucked up finances beyond repair? am i fucking up my health? am i fucking up my kitten? am i fucking up everything?
just how fucked up am i?
and so on, and so on, and so on…sonofabitch
it’s most likely going to be a long evening…meh.
you’ve been awake too long again, haven’t you?