Lost

If you asked me how I was feeling right now, I would start listing some things that aren't very flattering. Among them are cowardly, manipulative, heartless, selfish, and ignorant.

But mostly cowardly.

And I don't know what to do about it. I have no idea how to make this better. Usually, I have some logical step that can be taken to at least give the illusion of progress. It's all about that first step, right? HellCat is the one who knows what's what. I am your answer girl. Ironically, today, I have no solutions for myself. Stop the presses, turn off the lights, this bitch has gone barren.

I suppose the tone of my writing would require that I relate this feeling to some story about my past. For instance, in school I would freak out when I didn't have the answer to a question and would theorize endlessly about it until I could bullshit my way through. I am a salesman, through and through, and I've sold many an icebox to an Eskimo. I use that skill to help get the wheels unstuck from the sludge and make things move forward. It's what I do. Sometimes any answer is better than none at all. In fact, that's usually the case, and if you can manage to make out some shapes through the fog that's all you need.

Right now I can't dress up how I feel. My spine turned to jelly when I needed it to stand upright. I cost myself a lot of happiness. Today it's coming back to haunt me.

I hate the high road. Sure, I like it in theory, but taking it is a totally different story. I believe you can trick people into believing you're taking the high road, when you're really pulling the wool over their eyes to solve all your low road problems. I think that I can get my way AND look good doing it. But this time, I fear that things might be different.

I don't think I can talk my way out of this one. It looks like curtains for our heroine.

I would tell you to stay tuned, but I don't think the end is going to be all that interesting. I think, as the seconds run out, that the audience would see the person who is supposed to save the day running away and chugging bourbon behind a dumpster and then throwing up all over themselves.

Not a pretty sight.

same bat time, same bat channel. g