Fuck. A. Duck.
I say that without an ounce of animosity (or sexual attraction) toward mallards or any of their feathered family. It’s just been one helluva weekend.
After the shit show of last week, I was ready for a relaxing weekend. That was not in the cards. Instead, personal issues blew up in my face like, well, a bomb in the face. Fool that I am, I thought maybe Monday would bring some relief.
But you know how Monday is. Monday’s like honey badger.
(I know that link has the potential to come across as horribly outdated. I prefer to think of it as a modern classic. And I prefer to imagine myself sticking my tongue out at you when you roll your eyes like that.)
All that to say, Monday wasn’t any better. It was, in fact, the opposite of better.
Worse. Monday was worse.
Sadly, I don’t have much of anything encouraging to add. I should, I suppose, try to say something about the virtue of hanging in there, or give you guys some kind of ra-ra spiel like I’m made of Teflon and sugar and nothing could possibly get to me.
Sorry. This shit is getting to me.
I’ll bounce back in a few days and write something upbeat. Probably. I mean, that’s my MO.
But tonight, I just … can’t.