The end of week 2 has arrived. It's been a downward trajectory for me today. During the drive home I start thinking a bit too much about stuff and it kind of got me down.
I feel like ET. A lost little alien surrounded by hostility and strangeness. Sure, I have a few friends to shield me from the scary people but in the end I'm just waiting for my spaceship to hear my call and come to pick me up and take me home.
Things are a bit better now though. I spent the evening eating a giant schitzel in a pub in a nearby town. We had good company and I was able to pour my heart out to my Smaller Half on the drive home. I'm a lucky fella.
I am gonna make through this year if it kills me.
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"Laughter and joke-telling is healthy and can be used to convey messages that may otherwise be too difficult to express!" - Jesse Eisenberg, A Marriage Counselor Tries To Heckle At A Knicks Game
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- PTR
- A raging Bruxist, I grew up on an ostrich farm until I was mistaken for a woman one time too many. Leaving my angsty post-teen life as one of three only children, I flew to Stockholm where I unexpectedly won the Man Booker Prize for lengthy blogging about being short. I'm perplexed to report that I like painting tiny Romans.
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4 comments:
schnitzel is always good. I tend to prefer a giant bowl of laksa myself
hang in thar dude
we're all in the same boat, and we'll get there
even if it is a pile of incomprehensible purple blobs away. I hate histo
Agreed! Thanks for the encouragement.
PTR,
If this year kills you, then have you really made it through? That seems a bit Jim Morrison.
Or have you got some sort of deal going with Madam Tussards to invest some of your $5 m into having yourself stuffed? Maybe you could be stuffed with schitzel?
It's much more John Darnielle than Jim Morrison, but that's just a quibble.
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