turn and cough...

I have something stuck in my jugular vein and it seems to be a bad gene. I've been feeling it bulge all day with impatience, indifference and insecurity. I think sticking cocktail forks directly into my eyeballs would feel better and be more aesthetically pleasing than watching me struggle through my workday.

How do you act like you like something when you hate it? For years. How long can you "suck-it-up" without the bad (or reasonable?) gene digging a hole in your jugular? How long before you start performing like the lead little green man in a musical about little green men that you spontaneous created in your head in order to keep from cutting your head off with the dull pair of scissors laying on your desk? My brain is a smoothie...stolen, pureed and returned without a receipt. Dear God, I hope school is worth it. Dear God, I hope waiting out this horrible poor-as-shit period is worth it. Dear God, help me to stay employed until I can get my wings back. All this is wearing on my confidence, hope and abilities.

Other than that, I've had a good day. I'm fine. A few rows of Kyoto tonight and I'll be fine. Really. Fine. Fine, I tell you. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow will be Friday. And Friday is better than Thursday.