Today my mood might have been a little better than it was yesterday. Might have been. Until about noon. When work dragged the bitch out of me again. Not really out, just closer to the surface. Luckily, all that came of it was an email to C which might as well have been entirely comprised of the word fuck.
But there was no beefy salad. And there was chocolate cake for dinner. And there is nothing wrong with that.
I don’t know if I can blame my mood solely on cramps and beef though. I think there may be something underlying. Something I am not really sure that I want to deal with so I just keep it there to make me bitter. More often than not, I think I am more willing to make myself suffer than I am just to deal with issues. So much so, that I am not always even sure what the issues are anymore.
Maybe I should just stop listening to Simon and Garfunkel.
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