Alix and the terrible horrible no good very bad days.

OK first off, let's go on record as saying that I try to keep very strong perspective in life. I wake up everyday grateful that I'm doing so in a first world country, where I mostly keep my head above water. I'm not stricken with Cholera in Zimbabwe. I'm not living in Europe during World War II. I'm not an Okie during the Dust Bowl. I'm neither barefoot, nor pregnant. So when life throws me some uncomfortable, shall we say "challenges" I generally swallow them down like a not-so-fresh oyster shooter and just keep on keeping on. But what happens when you just can't get that lump down? When you just keep trying to swallow it down? Well, you either end up choking on that foul shit, or it comes out spewing. Welcome to my spew.

Any of you that know me somewhat well know that I haven't been my usual happy-go-lucky self lately. 200nah, I want my money back has been sort of a mind-fuck thus far. I don't really feel any sense of stability. The grey cold relegates me to the couch in the miniscule amount of totally free time I have. The sunny days just make me feel guilty that I don't really take advantage of them. Whatever. Wallower.

This weekend started out perfectly fun and awesome. Until some self-entitled fucking douchebag motherfucker stole my purse on Saturday night. I take responsibility for my actions. If I'm a dick and I leave my shit out in stupid places, I realize that there are going to be risks. But such was not the case. I made my purse. It took a very long time for me to make, and it was a real source of pride for me. So what, should I not leave the house with something because I value it? Should I not ever let anything of personal value out of my sight for fear that some inconsiderate fucking asshole may covet it and then just TAKE IT? I can't help but feel some sick and fucked up sense of irony. That I've never stolen anything in my life, yet that this would happen. I don't believe in Karma. This is further proof of WHY I don't believe in Karma. Fuck Karma. Unless it's that I'm bearing the brunt of friends' karmic retribution. If that's the case, then fuck you douches. You bitches better start doing unto others, because there's only so much more stupid shit in what's been an almost constant cavalcade of stupid shit that I can take. So fucking make right.I totally blew off a friend that I haven't seen in months yesterday because I had no way of getting in touch with him because of the loss of my cell phone. I don't really like talking on the phone, but take it away from me and I feel utterly amputated from my family and my oldest friends that know and love me best.

My roommate fainted yesterday. My mother's in horrible pain from emergency root canals and I'm across the country unable to lend any sort of help. Because my cell phone is apparently my only reliable alarm clock, I overslept by an hour today and was unable to call work to notify them of what would be my inevitably tardy arrival. My dog shit all over my house. It was fucking pouring out and no one had lugged the garbage cans out to the curb yet.

It's funny, because I was commended last week by how patient I am on the telephone dealing with all the fucking animals that call us at the office. I have a feeling one of them will become my spewing target fairly soon.

And for a quote from one of my favorite movies:
Jack: Listen to Miss Smarty Mouth. Out there in the free world.
Adele: What's free about it?

That's right Adele. You tell 'em.

So that's it. I guess I'm done ranting. I don't really feel any better. I know, waah waaah waaah woe-is-me. Do me a favor, and don't say "it could always be worse." I fucking know that, hence my introduction. My fear is that inevitably, it will be.