It could be the week-long cold, a lack of sleep and/or a stray comment from a friend that keeps rippling through my head, that has put me in this navel-gazing mood.
(this is your cue to, as the Monty Python boys would say, run away.)
The upshot of this introspection of the ill and sleep-deprived has led me to feeling that I am not that nice a person. My list of negatives is a long list; I’m not writing it all down. It’s depressing. I know there are positives, and I’m not writing them down either as tonight it seems like a very short list, which is even more depressing. It’s funny how I can strut around, bleating how I like myself the way I am, I’m happy with who I’ve become, and then hit one of these moments with no warning, like a car careening around a corner expecting open road but running smack dab into an unexpected brick wall.
Clean up on aisle four.