Today isn’t looking any better than Monday when it comes to blogging. Today was a nonstop slog through the marshes of exhaustion and futility. Of forty-eight assignments due to me, nineteen didn’t make it in for reasons that ran from, “My dog ate it,” to, “I dunno… must have… um… forgotten or something.”
I raised my voice more today than I have in the last five months put together. I strongly considered whether or not I was in the right profession. I briefly contemplated throwing up my hands and walking out of the building.
This is the part of the blog post where I normally come up with a “turn.” I try to find a skillful way of redirecting my ire to a more positive outlook. It is analogous to the third stanza in a Shakespearean sonnet, and it is a standard device in blogging a short post, and it is the sort of thing I rely on regularly to draw me out of my miry grumpiness so that Exercising Monsters doesn’t become a series of whiny complaints that might ultimately degrade into bad poetry set to a thirty-second loop from a Seether song.
But today I don’t feel like turning. Today was a crappy day and people where not nice to me. I tried to look at it in a good way, but I can’t think of any way to do it and still be honest about it. Things will get better at some point, I’m sure, but I don’t know when that will be and I’m tired of waiting for it.