I was in good spirits on the way to work this morning, but somewhere between my iced coffee and my inability to compose a blog post it became a very blah day. I am really tired, there’s a huge balance on both my credit cards, and my suit jacket is just going to have to make itself useful even without the dry cleaning.

There is a reason for all this, of course. I hope it’s worth it. That’s all I’ll say right now.

Why is today going so slow, and why am I so tired? I got a decent night’s sleep! I suppose one good night can’t make up for the past 10 days, and it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

There are no words for how insane next week is going to be. I’m trying not to think about it, because it’s going to be miserable, but if I can keep myself from thinking about it, and keep myself from dreading all the anxiety producing events, maybe it won’t be as bad.

One day at a time?

Nah! (I just emailed Brent: “I am going to hate the world until approximately this time next week.” And it’s true!

“Why stop there?” he asked.

Also a valid point. But I do like my dose of new age-y optimism that I am sometimes able to maintain. I just can’t fake it till I make it in the next seven days. I’m already exhausted.

Why fight it? Some days, it’s just not worth the effort.