Some Days are Born Ugly

I haven’t been much for sharing lately, have I? The past few months it’s been a bunch of updates about Laine and one little thing about change but overall I’m doing a bit of blocking. I’ve got tons in my head right now, things that probably need to be talked out and things that would get better/change if I’d clue a person or two into what’s going on with me but I’ve developed a more concentrated sense of autonomy than usual. It isn’t like I feel I don’t have anyone to talk to, because I do. I’ve got a person and a husband and a mom that I feel are always there for me no matter what , I even have my mom’s people if needed, but what my issue is now is that I don’t care to talk. I don’t care to complain or whine. I don’t want to defend myself or attack anyone and I don’t want to get emotional. So I’ve been withdrawn a bit maybe. A little more introverted than what would be typical. And I’m okay with it for now I think. I’m not hurting in anyway and there isn’t anything going on that I’m sad about or angry about, I’m kind of in a whatever place. It’s not a bad place, but I don’t feel like sharing it with anyone as of right now. So, if I don’t blog for a while or I don’t write anything of consequence or if you see me and you get a distinct whatever vibe, now you know why.

From John Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday
“Some days are born ugly. From the very first light they are no damn good whatever the weather, and everybody knows it. No one knows what causes this, but on such a day people resist getting out of bed and set their heels against the day. When they are finally forced out by hunger or job they find that the day is just as lousy as they knew it would be.
On such a day it is impossible to make a good cup of coffee, shoe strings break, cups leap from the shelf by themselves and shatter on the floor, children ordinarily honest tell lies, and children ordinarily good unscrew the tap handles of the gas range and lose the screws and have to be spanked. This is the day the cat chooses to have kittens and housebroken dogs wet on the parlor rug.
Oh, it's awful on such a day! The postman brings overdue bills. If it's a sunny day it is too damn sunny, and if it is dark who can stand it?
Mack knew it was going to be that kind of day. He couldn't find his pants. He fell over a box that had crept out in his path. He cursed each brother in the Palace Flophouse, and on his way across the vacant lot he went out of his way to kick a dandelion flower.”