Lots of little things are nagging at me. Like termites gnawing the edges of my brain. I'm in a place where I can - with effort - kick myself until I stop moping. But it takes effort. Why am I blue? I'm sure this miserable excuse for a resort is part of it. Especially not having a comfortable bed. I can forgive a lot if the bed is good.
Then there's the realization this is the only vacation we'll get this year. It could have been worse. It could have been a fantastic resort, but rained all week. Or one of us could have come down with flu. Both have happened and you don't even get to blame the Front Desk. And it also could have been a lot better. I would have welcomed a little pampering. It's been a rough decade and then some.
There's always a let down at the end of a vacation - any vacation - when you know you have to go home to face whatever crap you left behind. It's waiting. In our case, there's a lot of stuff waiting and it has fangs and claws.
Still, it isn't worse than it was. Nothing got worse while we were away - or so I fondly believe. I've been taking care of business. I don't want to jinx myself, but the issues are dire enough it doesn't seem likely to get much worse, short of me up and dying. That would affect me less than those around me - a scenario we would all rather avoid. I don't have life insurance, so keeping me alive is a better deal for all concerned, though I sometimes wonder about me. I wish I believed in heaven. Something to look forward to.
I should buy lottery tickets. Someone has to win, right? I need hope.
I'm looking for a silver lining. I always look for one or two up there in the sky, but in my experience, clouds are lined with rain or snow, not silver. They're just clouds. Puffy vapor floating around in the blue yonder. They do not come bearing news, good or ill. Nor does good news come disguised as bad. Good stuff announces itself with trumpets, bells and brass bands. Bad news? Never any danger of missing it, No, uh uh. You can always tell when a piano falls on your head. Assuming you retain consciousness long enough to look up and say "Where did THAT come from?"
Today is half way between depression and blah. I'm not totally dispirited, but I'm not exactly jumping with joy. Maybe that's as good as I should expect these days. Lacking imminent threat of demise, foreclosure or other life catastrophe, 'tis enough. t'will serve. Thank you Will Shaxper.