Spleen

This is the third attempt at trying to write a coherent blog post, the first two ended in absolute disaster, and I am not holding out much hopes for this attempt. But, I have to give it a shot, and hope for the best even though I expect the worst. I have tried, in those first two attempts, to convey a feeling that I have. The problem is, that the feeling I have is very hard to explain. It is somewhere been sadness and despair. I can not find the right word(s) in any of the languages I have any familiarity with, and the blinding rage that has seeped into my day is not helping matters any. Today started off badly, and has only gone to hell in a hand basket since I staggered out the door to work. Reading a bit too much Baudelaire before bed had caused me to dream in French, so I was a little disoriented from the beginning, but then it all went pear shaped. And pear shaped it has remained. No amount of "heroics" could save this indistinguishable day. Scan the annals of time all you want, you will be unable to find anyone, anywhere, from anytime that could rescue this day from itself. Some days just fade into the background, some days would be better off with your participation, for me, this is one of days. An episode in my life that would have been better if my part in it had been written out. The part of GI has been deemed unimportant today, and will therefore will NOT be shown in its entirety. A mere glimpse is all that is necessary in order for, even the most dense person, to see that my role in this day is pointless. It is one of those days that I should be snoring away the afternoon away in my own bed, rather than at work trying to keep it together until quitting time. Keeping it together at work is important you know, mustn't let the mask slip too much, or people will start to talk. Luckily for me I was able to call my therapist, Dr. Kronenbourg, and schedule an early afternoon appointment. He is a most understanding chap, and I hope that some quality time with him will at least put me in a better mood. Call for me tomorrow, and perhaps I will be less of a grave man, until then it is with only a little regret that I must inform you that for today, May 18th, there is no hero of the day.