Good Times

I am done. Roasted marshmallow, crispy pig on spit, turkey timer popped D-O-N-E.

This year. This god-damned year. By far the toughest personally, professionally all the mother-fucking way around. I'd say emotionally, but I am numb. Legit. I feel nothing.

Case in point, my dog died. My first baby. I was sad. But not as sad as I should have been. Pretty sure I'm going to have a nervous break down come April when I somehow find my way out of this dark hole and realize he's gone. That is if I'm not having open heart surgery and recovering, blissfully unaware on a 30-day supply of Vicodin. Almost makes that possibility appealing.

And yet I still give fucks. WHY, WHY OH WHY (insert illustration a la Mo Willems and the Pigeon series...parents, you feel me)?

I want to kill everyone. Except the people I like. And that list has grown significantly shorter in 2018. Maybe it's me. The older I get, the less and less I like people. Clarification - ignorant, soul-sucking unwoke, jerk people. And there's a shit ton of them out there.

Is this what they mean by mid-life crisis? Question everything, hate everyone and everything, and have a strong desire to blow your life up from top to bottom? I don't want a girlfriend or a Ferrari. Or a new job. But still.

Disclaimer -- I have had some pretty awful, soul-searching shit happen to me and people close to me (both emotionally and proximity wise) this year (e.g. why it sucks). Cancer, heart problems, death, marital discord, Democrats...things that make you question why you don't just shut it down and live in a yurt in the desert somewhere between California and Nevada. Because it's hot. That's why. And it would be too far to drive for wine.

I digress. I desperately want to be that "glass half full", "be grateful for everything and everyone because it could be so much worse" person. I have my moments. Particularly of being the bigger person. Eating shit is my diet plan this year. It's not working in case you're wondering.

But it is hard. Hard in the moment. Hard when you've worked yet another 12-hour day. Hard when you feel like you aren't doing enough to help your children thrive in this sick world. Hard when you're packing on the eve of attending your father-in-law's memorial service, who is quite possibly the most wonderful human being you've ever known in your life. I could use his words of wisdom right now.

I know, this too shall pass. But can we get on with it already?

P.S. Pipe down, I'm kidding about the Democrats. Except the soul-sucking, unwoke ones.











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