Whine and Cheese

I am in a shitty mood. That's not news, really: I've been in one for the past few weeks. It just seems like I am on again on the verge of being the Charlie Brown to the Universe's Lucy Van Pelt and it sort of has me pissed off. I mean, there's nothing even that I want to write that isn't a huge gripe-y, bitching and moaning, crybaby bunch of bullshit. I mean, stuff ain't so bad. Sure, I might be losing my position in the library next year, teaching in a classroom, at my same school if I'm lucky. True, the things that I want most in my life (a family, financial security) still seem to be beyond my reach. Okay, I have lost a couple of pounds... but that is mostly because I have been too busy running around at work and home to try and even be able to eat anything. Yes, when I look at my eyes in the mirror I see a certain haunted quality, a sagging tiredness that belies my weariness, my plain old emotional and physical exhaustion. So what if the tension has me wound so tightly that shrugging freely without pain is the merest whisp of a dream? At least I am not starving to death. At least I have clean water within my reach. At least I have things that a lot of other people in the world probably can't even dream of. Yeah.