I had many ideas for the subject line on this one:

That light? It was a fucking train.
Back in touch with my inner dumbass.
On my ass.

Etc.

I don’t deal well with failure. No, make that I’m not dealing well with failure. No past tense about it. I always try to cut my losses. Stock doing poorly? Sell. (yeah, like I own lots of stock). Dog tearing up the house? Lock it outside. Car acting up? Sell it!

So, faced with a failing marriage, I don’t know what the fuck to do. I see a counselor, tell him I’m depressed. His advice? I need a hobby. WTF? Oh, and I’m not eating right and not getting enough exercise. I want his job! 95% of the people I know aren’t eating right and not getting enough exercise. Whee! Oh, he also said I need a marriage counselor. Yeah, I figured that one out on my own, dude. Was it because I couldn’t stop talking about how I’d lost my best friend that tipped you off?

Two hours ago my biggest worry was that I couldn’t get a Windows XP upgrade to install on my PC at home. I had fooled myself into thinking I had somehow made a step, maybe two, into digging out of the emotional hole I’ve put myself into. Now, after a rude paradigm shift, I’m wondering if I’m not in the middle of a huge test. In my mind I am, at least. If this Christmas, this holiday season, doesn’t go well? It feels like there won’t be another. Not as a family.

Tra la fucking la. Okay, I warned you this wasn’t a happy post. Up next: Denial! Avoidance! My usual blog fare.