Janus in a Glass
When I was a freshman in college, a friend of mine said, "Never drink to forget about a girl. It makes her fucking omnipresent." He was right. It turns out, though, that the truth of this maxim is not limited strictly to relationships; it is also true for problems. Mind you, I'm not drinking to forget anything; I'm drinking because I bought a really good Australian Shiraz for $8 today. But after three or four glasses of it, a problem that had been pushed to the back of my mind, one that I'd managed to forget about after waking up troubled by it, has reared its gorgon head, and I feel completely overwhelmed by it.
It's not that I feel hopeless in regard to this issue; I've got plenty of hope. But it's all long-term. The ragged exasperation I feel is not from hopelessness, but despair of the short-term, and the lack of any assurance as to just how long or short the short-term might be.
And you know what? The Maternal Unit just put on a fucking Dido album. It's rather à propos, too. I'd call her a bitch, but it is kinda funny, really. And it's sort of helping.
You know, I was really tempted to add the tag "tentacles", just to freak people out.
Unrelated: I never had to explain this to my father, but still do to plenty of my peers.
EtA: I feel much better now. In part, this is because the wine is no longer clouding my perception. However, The Maternal Unit deserves special mention here. She put a whole parade of things in the CD player (Grace Jones, David Bromberg, Cobra Starship, Panic! At the Disco, Journey, Queen, Bruce Springsteen, Roxy Music, Eurythmics, The Specials, Yoko Ono, The Righteous Brothers, VeggieTales, Heart, Shirley Bassey, Cinderella, Annie Lennox...), and, well, they made me feel better.
It's not that I feel hopeless in regard to this issue; I've got plenty of hope. But it's all long-term. The ragged exasperation I feel is not from hopelessness, but despair of the short-term, and the lack of any assurance as to just how long or short the short-term might be.
And you know what? The Maternal Unit just put on a fucking Dido album. It's rather à propos, too. I'd call her a bitch, but it is kinda funny, really. And it's sort of helping.
You know, I was really tempted to add the tag "tentacles", just to freak people out.
Unrelated: I never had to explain this to my father, but still do to plenty of my peers.
EtA: I feel much better now. In part, this is because the wine is no longer clouding my perception. However, The Maternal Unit deserves special mention here. She put a whole parade of things in the CD player (Grace Jones, David Bromberg, Cobra Starship, Panic! At the Disco, Journey, Queen, Bruce Springsteen, Roxy Music, Eurythmics, The Specials, Yoko Ono, The Righteous Brothers, VeggieTales, Heart, Shirley Bassey, Cinderella, Annie Lennox...), and, well, they made me feel better.