Look, I'm lodging a complaint against life right now. Yea, you heard me. Life, I'm going to talk to your supervisor, because you, my friend, my buddy, my pal, are effectively screwing me over.
Life: Oh look, it's a heat wave week. I bet she'd love to work every day of that week, oh yes.
Me: .....*dies of heat*
Life: Look, she's going to Israel in February! I think having some guys launch rockets there would be nice. Yup, sounds like a plan to me.
Life: Look, she's been feeling kind of good for a bit now. I think killing off a friend would be nice. *kills*
Life: Look at the ceiling fan. It deserves to break. *fan breaks*
Me: *cuts foot on broken glass* ...Ok, I deserved that one.
Life: Look! Dana's leaving Tuesday! I know the perfect going away present! Let's make her internet connection crappy for the night, that way she can't talk to her!
Me: ....*whacks compy*
Life: Oh yea, she forgot Alex would be leaving. Let's make that momentous day...soon. How about Friday? Friday sounds good, Friday is a good day to go off to college.
I'm through. You hear me! Life, you and me have got some problems. I'd be all "West Side Story"-esque and suggest a rumble, but you know, I'm fine. I'm mellow. Just bring it all on, I want you to pile up the hurt this week, because I...am unfeeling. I am going to be cold, and calculating, and going to bury my feelings in, and I will survive.
No, this does not mean I am going to drink. I'm not going to take pills, or drink, or contemplate suicide or any such stupid thing like that. This means I am going to drive myself into my work, my friends and their problems, and leave mine be. I'm sick of mine, let me at some of yours guys.
Bring on the week. I'm gonna take it on and come out on top. So I might get a few scratches in the process...that's ok. War wounds make for good stories.