I’m very much, by nature, pretty fucking dramatic.
It’s a thing with me. I’m fully aware of it.
Right now, though, I’m seriously living in the meh. I’m writing boring white papers for work. Not even a Reagan administration joke hidden in the mix.
It’s disgusting.
However, due to my propensity for overreacting, and, because I’m a masochist, doing some dumb shit that will compound my situation at least triple fold, I’m doing everything to remain concrete.
It’s the version of myself I like best.
The one where I’m not soft. The one where I have my fucking heart intact.
I’m back to gangster rap while I work. I’m back to the me that can write technical papers, but sweats when it’s time to write AaBF. I’m afraid to feel anything about anything, because then I’m going to feel everything about everything.
I know this is part of getting my fucking head back in the game. I remember what it was like to have an uncompressed chest plate. Sort of.
So, I’m working, like rented mule working. As long as I wear out my brain, I don’t dream. I can certainly appreciate that right now.
This shit is disgusting. No wonder I was such a bitter single Bitchface before. Look at this fucking stupid shit we’re calling love.
Maaaan, c’mon man, Ask A Bitchface, I’ll tell you what his little stupid ass problem is.
"Meh", while it IS ... well...meh, it is a good place, a GREAT place to be actually. Those of us whose pointer falls on the far left side of the Personality Scale, somewhere in the ballpark of "Nuclear" level or higher, where the warning lights start wildly flashing... and you know who you are... you NEED that quivering pointer to move in the other direction towards (sigh...) "meh" for a bit, or the damn thing is going to pop a spring!
You friggen HAVE TO!
Sure, it boring, blah, a bit depressing. It's Meh for chrissakes but it's one way to recharge, regroup, get re-inspired and therefore, ready to rev-up again later, charging head-on, back over to the more comfortable "Nuclear" side of town, fresh and full of life and ideas.
Think of it as a tune-up! Oh my God! I'd want to start jumping up and down, screaming, just to take away the boredom of sitting in a tiny, filthy waiting room with a shitty t.v. permanently tuned to Jerry Springer. There are only pieces of 15 year old "Popular Mechanics" magazines on the oily crate serving as a coffee table and I'd want to kick it through the window.
But I have to wait. I HAVE TO if I want my car back. Those are the rules. Fuck....okay. What can I do? I can't just sit there fuming. Let me clean out this dumpster passing itself off as a purse. Niiiice! Clean and you can see the now! I also uncovered $8.73 I didn't even know was in there and half a stick of Trident! Coolio! Now what? Well, I also found a nail file in all the mess and I look at my fingernails in horror. Might as well! What else am I going to do? 20 minutes later and I could be a parts model for Gold Bond Hand Lotion!
You see where I was going with all that. ....
If it's time to meh, it's time to meh and you better friggen listen, people! There is a reason and a purpose for it. (Isn't that a hippie song from the 60's?) Anyway, yes, it'll be boring, depressing, exhausting and seemingly go on forever but the time will pass because that's what time does. After boredom, depression and sleep find their equilibrium, just go with Meh. Take her pale, boring hand and trust her. You need a fucking tune up. God knows, my hard driven chassis could use a major tune up every now and then or it's gonna hit the wall doing 90 and never hit the road for joy rides again. Use the time wisely, clear your head, detoxify, read, sleep, walk, clean your purse or do your nails....whatever. I guarantee you will eventually come out the other end with a reset odometer and a shiny new paint job and that new car smell.... and you know who you are if you're reading this!
I'm really glad you're meh!
Ta ta and much love~!