Tuesday. As good a day as any for being miserable I suppose. Yesterday’s events concerning further therapeutic delay may lead to more successful and suitable results in the long run but my short term emotional reaction is to plunge into the kind of despondency I was feeling last November when this latest round of assessments began.
My mood is not being helped by a storming toothache. Yup, I did eat too much candy in America and on my return. Yes, I do know sugar is a bastard. No, I doubt I’ll ever fully conquer this last lingering addiction. Fuck’s sake, most folk have vices like dogs have fleas; I just have this and killing traffic wardens. Can’t you let a man have some simple pleasures in life?
Guess I can’t be that depressed if I can make jokes, eh? Wrong. You don’t know much about human psychology, do you? Black or gallows humour serves a darker purpose than the sort that makes us all connect and roll about in giggling fits. It’s a defence mechanism, okay? It puts a tiny, paper-thin layer between me and the shit that is threatening to fully engulf me today. Didactic? Yes, I’ll grant you that one unless you have to look the word up in which case it sort of proves my point.
Tuesday, then, grumpy, miserable fucker day. Oh and merry equinox to you too.