And by the end of the day, my mood has hit rock bottom. All my energy is gone, frankly I feel accomplished just to have put away the spaghetti I took out to eat this afternoon. I feel like going back to bed, honestly, and the only reason I haven’t is because I 100% intend on going right back to work tomorrow and I can’t do that if I wake up at 1 am full of the desire to drink eight bottles of beer and cry for an hour.
I’d say my lesson has been learned but I’m not entirely sure I won’t do this again either intentionally or by accident simply due to the fact that I know what kind of person I am.
At the very least I spent the better part of this day being snuggled by a four week old kitten and a very fluffy chihuahua/pom mix.
It kind of feels like some emotional mosquito the size of a jumbo jet landed on me and sucked all the feelings out of me now and I’m stuck between hideous gross self loathing and complete and total apathy. I should take a shower and wash off the stench of shame, failure and cat hair, and I probably will in about an hour or so.
But for the moment all I want to do is lay in bed and drink this Dr. Pepper and plan on how I’m going to improve my day tomorrow. I hate not being at work. I really should have just driven in panicking and worked through it, nothing really soothes me as much as beating the shit out of a piece of metal.