Meander

I wonder why I've never really aspired to happiness...or, frankly, much of anything else. Is that why I'm (usually) not unhappy? My goals are small: get through today without making tomorrow any worse than it has to be without my assistance. I don't have--never have had--serious long-term goals. I sense that this is why I have what are essentially panic attacks every time I have major projects to manage: moving, major trips, work processes, etc.

Then again, I'm feeling extra-morose tonight, and cranky. Sucking it up, being the grown-up, doing my duty: it's not fun. It's incredibly important to do that, however, because I know that where I'd end up if I didn't "do the right thing" is an ugly place that I don't want to visit. Or live, God forbid.

Whatever. I don't have the energy or the interest in really delving into my psyche tonight. I have some tough days ahead this week. There is no way around them, so I might as well face them whatever courage I can muster up. Because that's what we Scots do.

If only my fucking eyes weren't all screwed up AGAIN now.