It’s just after midnight and I cannot sleep … same shit, different Sunday. I wandered into the kitchen and made a glass of chocolate milk with Hershey’s syrup that expired in August 2008. My fate shall be decided soon. Oh yeah, speaking of fate, I am so behind at work. Between real and imagined illnesses and general apathy, I am bound to get written up for something any day now. The truth is I really don’t care this time. I feel so out of touch with everyone and everything lately. Don’t worry … I am not suicidal. I just don’t give a flying fuck.
Next up: Anxiety is my superpower.
P.S. 19 minutes later, I went into my Google Reader. Sobbing ensues.
I hate that you are having another sucktacular year again at work. I hate that you can’t sleep I know all to well how that feels. I continue to send you all the positive mojo I have. *hugs*
Expired chocolate syrup-induced diarrhea is every reason in the world to have a bad day. If that happened, that is. Otherwise, I hope today is better than yesterday. Sometimes, that is all we can hope for.
I hate, hate, hate that you are so miserable. I hope things change for the better soon. As for the post that made you sob, it made me teary too. I need to comment and it’s been in an open window on my phone for days, but no response I have will convey what I really want to say – he loves you to the moon and back again. The post makes it absolutely clear.
Love you both!
I’ll take that chocolate syrup. I’m sure it’s fine.
Hang in there.
Oh gosh for both of you. Would that I could fix it, but you know the current status of our adoption attempts.
Love you honey. Hugs to you both.
Hopefully there is some hope now.
I wish you and Boog everything you both wish for honey. If you have questions, Karin has my cell number (at least she better – hehe).
I hate that you’re so miserable, and there is so little that can be done to immediately change it. I am not capable of expressing how much I feel for you, and how much I wish for you to have your dreams come true. Your sweetheart absolutely adores you, and I hope this is something that can be “fixed” (for lack of a better word). xo
Been there, hon. Six months of therapy and two years of Lexapr* later, I’m feeling better — more like me, less like an apathetic lump. Please do whatever it takes to help yourself. In the mean time, come home to Looseeyana — you’d be close enough for me to drive down and give you a great big hug (and then we could party in the Quarter).