Submitted by megan on Fri, 11/23/2007 - 10:05
I know I should write something clever for you today, heading into the home stretch of NaBloPoMo, but I got nuthin except wicked bad sad PMS, like the entire fucking world is ending and all I want to do is cry and curl up in bed and think about what a right fuck up I've made of my life, and what a knob I am, and how I ruin everything nice and good that I ever manage to find, how I always say the wrong thing and just can't leave well. enough. alone.
And I know it's all not true, or at least not all true, but it is sometimes very very hard to listen to that tiny calm voice of reason when what feels like some form of insanity is whirling around so fast over the top layer of my brain that the calm voice is just a murmur and I can't hardly make out the words.