Not the Remainder of the Review
Often, I think, Fuck, the human race is getting even stupider. But that's not true. What is true is that there are far more people than when I first formed my opinion about how stupid is the human race, as a whole, and - this is the part that truly matters - we are now being treated to the stupidity of an outrageously pointless number of people. Hence, the illusion that the human race is getting stupider. Thank you, internet.
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A couple of weeks back, I hit a wall. It's a complicated wall, with many sharp edges, and I hit it at high speed, and some of it's work and some of it's personal (truthfully, most of it's work-related). All of it fairly awful. Thing is, it's begun to affect my ability to work. I'm allowing it to affect my ability to work. This part is a little perplexing. My career has always been shit, and I've pretty much never been happy on any other level, either. So...why now? Is this some bullshit midlife crisis? In the end, all that matters is that I have to get back on the horse. Tomorrow. Fuck the rest.
Actually, no. Retraction. Beginning months ago, I've been hitting a series of low barricades, getting kneecapped. They are complicated barricades, with many sharp edges, and I hit them at high speed, and some of it's work and some of it's personal. All of it fairly awful. Then, last week, I hit a fairly small one - as these barricades have measured - but it may have been the proverbial backbreaking straw. But...broken back or no...in the end, all that matters is that I have to get back on the horse. Tomorrow. Fuck the rest.
Low,
Aunt Beast
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A couple of weeks back, I hit a wall. It's a complicated wall, with many sharp edges, and I hit it at high speed, and some of it's work and some of it's personal (truthfully, most of it's work-related). All of it fairly awful. Thing is, it's begun to affect my ability to work. I'm allowing it to affect my ability to work. This part is a little perplexing. My career has always been shit, and I've pretty much never been happy on any other level, either. So...why now? Is this some bullshit midlife crisis? In the end, all that matters is that I have to get back on the horse. Tomorrow. Fuck the rest.
Actually, no. Retraction. Beginning months ago, I've been hitting a series of low barricades, getting kneecapped. They are complicated barricades, with many sharp edges, and I hit them at high speed, and some of it's work and some of it's personal. All of it fairly awful. Then, last week, I hit a fairly small one - as these barricades have measured - but it may have been the proverbial backbreaking straw. But...broken back or no...in the end, all that matters is that I have to get back on the horse. Tomorrow. Fuck the rest.
Low,
Aunt Beast