I seem to have taken ill, or lazy, or moody; they feel surprisingly similar at times. I am a miserable beast, my current disposition is slightly less than amicable and considerably less than favorable. I’ve done my best to mask the monster for nearly a week now in hopes no one would notice, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to contain.
Of course, I am prone to the dramatic when I feel like this, things are never as bad as I ultimately make them out to be . . . but they are. This is more than simple 6 AM melodrama because I am annoyed at being awake. This is, I have a headache, my body feels like it’s run a marathon from a simple day of housework, no one has bothered to pick up dog poo for a week, found the handle of my eighth favorite coffee cup on the floor, it’s so hot here I can’t properly breathe and I look like I work in sweat lodge, bills are due, and I forgot the important stuff at the grocery store, kind of turmoil..
Legitimate reasons to brood, no? I’ve not sat down to write anything of substance or value in quite some time, this particular grouping of words cannot be counted as proper writing since it is basically nothing more than a mini whine session to convince myself I am justified in my misery, not that I truly need justification. My complaints are just.
I’m mostly laying the blame for my ghastly circumstances on the heat, I grew up in Alaska, it’s not in my genetic makeup to survive and thrive in the September heat here in Western armpit of the United States. I’ve had eighteen years to acclimate to the seemingly volcanic temperatures my fellow citizens seem to adore, it’s not going to happen.
Sigh. Ugh. Argh.
Crystal R. Cook
The Qwiet Muse 