Rainy days and monthly newsletter deadlines make me cry.
At least, that’s the going excuse.
I try very hard to pretend I don’t have a heart and that I don’t care about things. About anything.
And then years later people come back and say, hunh, didn’t know you cared. If I even get around to telling them.
Right now I’m operating from a place of hurt and I can feel myself lashing out at everybody. I’m hurt that I have to leave my beloved/hated apartment. I’m hurt about some comments someone keeps making to me that are perhaps designed to make me believe I am doomed to professional failure. And other things that I never thought would get under my skin, did.
I feel like I owe everyone a blanket apology for being me. Not being me, per se, but for letting myself feel what I feel and not being able to censor it.
Maybe I’ll feel better when the rain is gone. If anyone is even left to talk to.