(no subject)
I'd currently like to punch my way through a wall. Since the walls of Van Hise are probably as hard as those of our house where "you have to use a hammer to push thumbtacks in" (in Josh's words), you can understand when I say I think I could cause some damage here. With my bare fists. But I won't, mostly because the anger is not hot anymore, because I've had time to sleep and sleep late, because everything will be taken care of in a few days with luck, and because I know it wouldn't do any good.
Yesterday was not a good day for me. Yesterday was one of those days when you start to list all of the bad things going on in your life and come out to the conclusion that it can only get better - and then remember that evey cliché has an opposite cliché: "it's only going to get worse before it gets better."
There's more to yeaterday than this, but the breaking point yesterday is worth noting. I came home from the rumors meeting for Game, ready to give Moe a ride home and go out driving in the snow for some badly-needed stress relief. In addition to that, I was going to get some ACen business done; get a load off my mental back, so to speak; and maybe grab some soup and relax a little bit.
Hah.
I went out back with Moe to brush my car off and discovered that I had left the passenger-side window open. Wait a second - it's winter. Why would my window be open? That's right - someone had cmashed my car's window with a rock and rifled through it to find valuable stuff. Before it had started to snow. On top of that, this isn't important enough for me to speak to a human being at the police department. (The woman says, "well, you'll have to use our automated report system. Here's the number.") Take pictures, call the tow truck, get it towed to the dealership, right, whatever, okay. Just get it done with. Deal with it tomorrow, make sure Moe gets home okay, prevent myself from smashing something. It might even be viewed as a good thing that I didn't know or have suspicions as to who did it, because I was feeling quite violent last night, and I know some very exact and painful ways to deter people from certain ideas. Broken bones and dislocated joints usually do the trick.
I have to call my grandfather later today, and make sure he's okay after his stroke. And I have to call my grandmother today to see if she's okay after her father deid. And, while I'm at it, I may as well call my other grandmother to see how she's doing and whether there's any other news about her lung cancer.
Just a day or two. Things can only get better from here. Right?
-Eli, with apologies that he never writes anything happy anymore.
Yesterday was not a good day for me. Yesterday was one of those days when you start to list all of the bad things going on in your life and come out to the conclusion that it can only get better - and then remember that evey cliché has an opposite cliché: "it's only going to get worse before it gets better."
There's more to yeaterday than this, but the breaking point yesterday is worth noting. I came home from the rumors meeting for Game, ready to give Moe a ride home and go out driving in the snow for some badly-needed stress relief. In addition to that, I was going to get some ACen business done; get a load off my mental back, so to speak; and maybe grab some soup and relax a little bit.
Hah.
I went out back with Moe to brush my car off and discovered that I had left the passenger-side window open. Wait a second - it's winter. Why would my window be open? That's right - someone had cmashed my car's window with a rock and rifled through it to find valuable stuff. Before it had started to snow. On top of that, this isn't important enough for me to speak to a human being at the police department. (The woman says, "well, you'll have to use our automated report system. Here's the number.") Take pictures, call the tow truck, get it towed to the dealership, right, whatever, okay. Just get it done with. Deal with it tomorrow, make sure Moe gets home okay, prevent myself from smashing something. It might even be viewed as a good thing that I didn't know or have suspicions as to who did it, because I was feeling quite violent last night, and I know some very exact and painful ways to deter people from certain ideas. Broken bones and dislocated joints usually do the trick.
I have to call my grandfather later today, and make sure he's okay after his stroke. And I have to call my grandmother today to see if she's okay after her father deid. And, while I'm at it, I may as well call my other grandmother to see how she's doing and whether there's any other news about her lung cancer.
Just a day or two. Things can only get better from here. Right?
-Eli, with apologies that he never writes anything happy anymore.