The rain’s coming down sideways.
My coffee cup being more full than empty is fact, not perspective.
What can I tell you? February. It’s that old wall-hanging quote: This too shall pass.
Which is an accidentally appropriate segue to a joke I’ve made a million times: “I need an existential laxative, ‘cos I’m finding it really hard to give a shit.”
So true today. So much needs doing, so little will to do it.
It’d be easy to chew myself out for missing the mark in a few areas, but by the time the dust on this week settles, I’ll have gotten a number of areas and long-running projects sorted in my life. I think. Or something.
But, in the meantime, between the oppression of February at its finest, the confusion of PMS, and the indecision of my life, it’s a really weird headspace I’m in this morning. Unsettled, but calm. Worried, but hopeful. The continuing state of the Steff, brought to you in part by the letter Y and the word “sigh”.
It’s weeks like this I find it impossible to write, mostly because I just have one theme on the top of my head: I just don’t know.
I’m not COMPLAINING or sad or depressed or bitter or anything. I’m the human equivalent of a rowboat tied up at dock right now. Ain’t a bad thing, ain’t a good thing — it just is. Poor little boat wants to just get a direction and sail, man.
But direction’s a two-way journey, and I’m not the only one with a say in the matter.
So, today it’s humpday. A rainy, stormy humpday.
And I got nothin’, nothin’ but a muddled mind as muddled as the clouds above.
Now my cup is empty, and my day begins. Enjoy yours.