The Mean Reds

For the past two nights, I've had dreams of driving drunk. They're vivid, terrifying dreams where I crash into things and once even ran someone over. You don't have to be an expert to figure out what they mean. Right now I'm feeling like my life is completely out of control, like when you break a string of beads and they scatter across the floor in every direction, skittering just out of reach. I'm drowning in debt, I yell at my kids too much, things with the new boy don't seem to be panning out, I can't quit smoking, my work is circling the bowl, waiting for a mercy flush. There's this great project on my desk but I can't focus, my head is just so clouded, I'm dropping of exhaustion, both mentally and physically.

And this afternoon I'm signing the settlement papers for my lawsuit. The whole thing has essentially fallen apart, with the city throwing a pittance at me the way a rich man tosses his pocket change to a beggar, not out of kindness but to avoid dealing with him. They aren't sorry, they wouldn't have done anything differently, and as much as it chaps my ass I just have to accept it. The fucking fuckers.

Back to your regularly scheduled frivolity tomorrow, I promise. Meanwhile, we wallow.

Red House Painters • Aimee Mann • The Smashing Pumpkins