A “week” into this project and I’ve made a decision which will surprise exactly none of you. It’s not the truth with which I have a problem; it’s that no truth can come from such questions. And questions are king. If I learned anything in law school it’s that asking the wrong questions will without fail give you the wrong answers, so instead of Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit, why not, OMG people, JUST BE FUCKING NICE TO EACH OTHER? It really is that simple.
I’ve been treading water in a sea of torpor, finally resorting last night to the one-two punch of NyQuil and tears. Around 4 a.m. I whispered “something’s not right,” but what that something is I can’t quite grasp. Whatever the problem, it is beyond ill timed and the pressure to fix it fix it fix it does not help at all. I’ve moved the Christmas music onto Mitch’s iPod; maybe that will help. Maybe I just need to get out of DC for a few days. Oh wait, I am.
I’d actually like to leave the blame there. As I was telling MG! the other day for someone who travels so often I sure have become an anxious traveler, but since we’re talking truth this trip will be a breeze. I will not be golfing. I will not be gambling. I will not be going to the spa. But I may have a glass of wine by the pool. A rum punch at the beach. You know, whatever will get my boat afloat. (Answer: cabana boys.)