Just...sad.

I just am. Not 'just' in the diminutive sense, but rather the matter-of-fact sense. The I'm-sort-of-making-excuses sense. This is a rough patch for me. Will continue to be so for the next couple of weeks. So if I'm rude or short or impatient, consider this my catch-all apology. It's not you, it's me. Rather, it's life.

Becky tells me that when the universe throws this sort of thing* at us, it's too coincidental to take for granted. It's such a therapy stereotype, but she says when shit like this happens we just have to 'say yes to it.' We have to assume that it's happening for a reason, to make us grow, and learn how to have enough room to hold two such contradictory and consuming things at the same time. So I'm trying. But I'm (obviously) imperfect, so if my attempt to hold both these big things at once means I'm a bit neglectful of you, well, of course, I'm sorry, but please don't take it personally. I'm just trying to dig in with my fingernails at this point and hold some shred of it together. The least you could do is wish me well.

It's not as dramatic as I'm making it, but I'm feeling particularly melodramatic/maudlin/emo tonight, so deal with it.

*My friend is having surgery, literally, during my proposal. Becky says it's a lesson in being present. (hopefully) at no other time in my professional career will I wish to be somewhere else more than I will on Friday afternoon. But I have to be present. Against every instinct of my being, I have to speak authoritatively, slowly, and patiently answer questions, for as long as people choose to ask them. The universe has decided that I** need a learning experience, and so I shall have one.


**because, of course, it's all about me.