SELL, SELL, SELL
Sunday nights always make me anxious. It can’t be the prospect of a new work week ahead. That’s never really scared me. Work is enjoyable, what’s not to love? After two nights of activity, drinks and friends, sitting at home watching HGTV doesn’t compare as well. The conversations I am carrying on iChat and via text don’t fill the gaps.
But that’s bullshit. The real reason is person-related. Another reason why this endeavor should cease to exist. A friendship shouldn’t make me feel this awful, especially over nothing. “You’re better then this, you’re better than this, you’re better than this….” Those words cycle through my brain like a digital stock ticker on the side of a New York skyscraper. “You’re better than this, you’re better than this, you’re better than this…” Little red and yellow words keeping me sane. “This too shall pass, this too shall pass, this too shall pass…”
And maybe, just maybe, “This is a part of it.”
