with 29 minutes left in the weekend i can safely say this was the worst weekend i’ve had in a number of years. worse than the weekend when the cowboy came to visit and acted as though i had the plague. not quite as bad as the weekend i found out the outlaw was a liar who had been leading me on for longer than a care to admit.

i need to pin a sign to my shirt that says, “fragile handle with care.” i’m hurting right now, still. i need a karma repair kit too. this is the kind of weekend where people (notice the plural) believed it was perfectly ok to call me cruel, bitchy, self-centered, passive-aggressive, uninteresting, and a host of other epithets i didn’t write down or memorize. and really, that’s ok. because i crave honesty. but that doesn’t make it any less painful.

i keep trying to tell myself that it’s ok to be down and hurt and in pain for right now. it’s ok because it’s february, and the winter is dragging on and the snow doesn’t stop. it’s ok because work is super stressful with the impending launches and the book due date looming. it’s ok that i’m achin for something i can’t define and i’m lonely. none of these things makes me a bad person. it just makes me human.

i tell myself all that, but i don’t believe any of it. the only thing i seem to be able to believe is that i’m cruel, bitchy, self-centered, passive-aggressive, uninteresting, and a host of other epithets i didn’t write down or memorize.