There's fewer instances more infuritating than listening to power rock ballad about staying true to yourself; one that compares yourself to a wild, majetic, beautifully independent bird, no thing and no one holding you back, free from consequence, just travelin' on, feeling feelings, flying free, beating its wings against the strains of dueling electric guitar and bass lines and some crucical drumming as you idle in traffic, waiting to get to your cubicle drone, mostly useless job, feeling your left leg go numb up to your ankle from holding down the clutch.
My prevailing thought, besides if I jump out of the car right now and run the opposite direction of work I might be able to escape before my creditors find me, was,
How much longer can May go on?
It's been one of those "woe is me" months where I'm just booked with things all the time--and we're only half way through the month. So many things happening all the time. Weddings, trips, dinners, meet ups, hang outs-- it makes me a big, gaping asshole to complain about having fun stuff to do all the time. Afterall, they're fun! But even an abundance of fun is exhausting. And add some unfortunate hormonal timing and a bunch of late nights at work and no energy to free write and I'm just ready to crawl in bed and sleep for the next 3 months.
Oh, that reminds me. I went from blogging almost every day for a week to not blogging for a week. But I've got a bunch of things to post. Fun things and gossipy things and picturey things.
But I need a nap first. And maybe some more Skynyrd.
And definitely an attitude adjustment.
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