Some days it feels like nothing is working.
I had the classic three am wakeup again. What the fuck is it with three am? It’s the fucking worrying hour. I wake up at three am, every goddamned bad thing in the universe comes to camp out behind my left ear. Everything I have to do, everything I’m ignoring, everything I want but can’t get, everything I’ve done wrong or fucked up or wish I’d done differently. It all comes up in forced perspective and looms over me like fucking dementors and ring-wraiths, and no mental game I play makes them seem any smaller. Every fantasy becomes an object of sadness and desire, every day-dream becomes a nightmare.
I managed to claw my way back to sleep a little before six, just in time to be woken by the get-the-kids-to-school alarm and the garbage truck.
Fine – sleep is over-rated.
And then there’s this sore throat I’ve been ignoring for a week, and the feeling of things-not-right that no amount of coffee or whisky seems to ease. I give in. I write this in my doctor’s waiting room, where I’m pirating wireless from the office next door.
And then there’s the fucking web project I’m supposed to be doing, for which I simply cannot figure out the css. I don’t know why css makes my brain hurt this way, when I can program in three or four languages (ok, badly, I admit, but it gets the shit done). Some reason, css kicks my ass, and I can’t seem to find a decent example to go with.
And then there’s the new VPN secure id cards they just issued, which work great at work but seem completely dysfunctional elsewhere; I’m trying to get some shit done while I wait for the doc, but I can only get to the internet, not work.
Ignore me. I’ve been in a foul mood all day. Look to the right-hand column and click on someone over there. I’ll just pound my fist through a wall until I feel better, or until something breaks.