I’ve had weeks like this before. So much happening in a short amount of time. I’m happy for the distraction, grateful for the company. I’m also drained to the point of debilitated. Two of the kindest people in my life appear and I’m smiling so much my face hurts. So much I couldn’t even flinch when I didn’t get the job my heart was set on. 

After endless assurances from kind people that they’re sure things will work out. Empty platitudes of support and caring designed to assuage impatience – theirs, not mine. It’s not their fault, it’s what people do. There should be a word for that vast ringing silence following the words, “I didn’t get it.”  My id wants to cry out “I told you so!” My ego pretends she doesn’t care. The superego has bigger issues.

This post marks 400 published tidbits.  Bits of pride littered among a mess of emotions and self-indulgence.  I’m just over halfway to the soft deadline and I still don’t know exactly what I’m doing.  I’ve got the music in me and no instrument to play.  I have to start building if I hope to finish on time.  My other option is to starve or worse – get remarried.