Yeah. Like you want to read That.
I'm in a horrid mood. I'm in a funk, in a rut. A funk rut, really.
I'm blue with a dash of the mean reds. So please forgive me if my eloquence is a bit off today. Last night was lousy bad bad bad. Today is merely rotten bad bad. Perhaps things are looking up? Not bloody likely.
I am usually a very pleasant and happy person. However, for the past couple of weeks things have been sliding into the abyss. The bad stuff has gotten worse and the good stuff has been sagging and limping. I just need a good cry, I think. I'm frustrated and have taken just about all the abuse to my self-worth that I can take. I am a polite and unfeeling shell of my former self. I'm like the grand canyon. One day of river running through = no big deal. Prolonged eons of river running through have resulted in gargantuan erosion and the cutting of my self esteem. I am a vague shadow of my former self. No fire, no will, no breath.
Depressing. To make matters worse, I have been reading The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger and it strikes all too close to home. Why does "Ahn-dre-ah" put up with it? Good question, but turn the finger around and its pointing at me. Another good question. I had to tell Prince Charming last night, "I'm not sadistic, you know. I don't enjoy the abuse."
For those of you playing at home, the abuse is not at the hands of my exceedingly wonderful Prince Charming.
