I’ve backslid. Or moved past denial or something. I’m so fucking angry. It’s so petty, unjustified, etc. But I can’t stop the rage, much. Apparently and obviously, I’ve had a pretty fucking easy life. So now that one thing isn’t going to work itself out the easy way, I want to stomp my feet and throw myself on the ground and gnash my teeth and rend my garments and pitch a big fucking toddler temper tantrum fit. Classy.
I’m going to have to put a moratorium on crackbook, too. I can’t handle the happy mommy updates right now. It’s not the babies. Still like the babies. But the happy pregnant ladies talking about ultrasounds and heartbeats and decorating nurseries are going to make me vomit. Perhaps, literally. This is dumb. I should just WORK. I’m at WORK. Can’t seem to focus on it, because it also pisses me off, yea and verily. All just seems rather fucking pointless right about now. I probably just need a nap. Not going to happen within the next eight hours or so, so I should either have some coffee and try to find my fake face and turn this aggrieved frown upside down or…something. Yeah, that actually might be my only option. MEH.