Charcoal 2-17-04
Feb. 17th, 2004 10:44 pmI quote from a response I just wrote to a friend's livejournal:
"After something like 13 hours of gradual, numbing, petty bad things grinding my soul to charcoal today, this brought me back a small bit of light."
Gods, what an awful day. It wasn't titanically bad: there were no major disasters, nothing irreparable happened, I was not lifted up in hope only to be dashed on the rocks of despair. In short, there was no melodrama. There was, however, an unceasing parade of things-not-quite-what-they-should-be ever since I woke up. I'd almost rather have the emotional bomb dropped than be worn down like this; better to be totally in the wrong once than to constantly be not quite right.
I think I shall henceforth refer to days like this as "The Ragged Days," where small failures are magnified far out of proportion, and good things that are present seem watered down and far away. Today was not a total loss... but I can't wait for it to be over.
Oh well. Only another half-hour's work before I can sleep.
"After something like 13 hours of gradual, numbing, petty bad things grinding my soul to charcoal today, this brought me back a small bit of light."
Gods, what an awful day. It wasn't titanically bad: there were no major disasters, nothing irreparable happened, I was not lifted up in hope only to be dashed on the rocks of despair. In short, there was no melodrama. There was, however, an unceasing parade of things-not-quite-what-they-should-be ever since I woke up. I'd almost rather have the emotional bomb dropped than be worn down like this; better to be totally in the wrong once than to constantly be not quite right.
I think I shall henceforth refer to days like this as "The Ragged Days," where small failures are magnified far out of proportion, and good things that are present seem watered down and far away. Today was not a total loss... but I can't wait for it to be over.
Oh well. Only another half-hour's work before I can sleep.