You know the sort of day I’m talking about.
One where you smack you smack your forehead with a 2×4 while wondering why you actually fell for (insert name/situation here) again.
One where you’re sick of being spoon-fed the same old bullshit from (insert name/corporation here) yet again.
One where you ask yourself WHY? Just… fucking why??
One where you ask yourself how you can such an idiot.
One where you ask yourself why you wasted so much valuable time.
One where you ask yourself why you’re letting the years slip by without living up to your full potential.
One where life just isn’t going the way you envisioned.
One where you allow someone to make you feel as small and as insignificant as humanly possible.
One where your self-esteem is shot and you are bone tired.
One where you fix the girl mac-n-cheese and microwaved White Castle cheeseburgers and call it good. One where you slice yourself some gouda cheese and open up the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from Snake River Valley- a bottle you picked up on long trip and you were going to save back for a special weekend, but fuck it. Fuck the weekend that will never happen.
One where you allow yourself one small pity-party to wonder why you’re not hot enough, smart enough, thin enough, funny enough, talented enough, creative enough, just not good enough. Even if you know that (for the most part) it’s probably not true, you allow yourself one night to feel sorry for yourself. One night, because in the morning, it’s all over. You will wake up, brush off the pity party debris, flip (insert name/corporation/situation here) the bird, and stride forward.
It’s my pity party. Join me if you wish. I have some great cheese and wine. But be aware: this party ends very soon.