Another Sunday

My body's turned on me again, and I've spent most of the weekend shut in and medicated, too irritated to be comfortably awake for long and doubly irritated by the need to incapacitate myself through another weekend. Monday and the work week come up too quickly as it is, and to make it worse I still have to get in there for a couple hours today just to give Monday a bare fighting chance. I don't want to do any of it, but chances are any of you could say the same thing.

I could complain - and already have - but it's all stale and most of it's my fault, so what would be the point? I am weary of a life that's little more than endless obligations, mounting regrets and a general sense of failure. I'm not milking anyone for inspiration speeches or general emotional support, especially as no matter how well-intentioned neither is going to do anything to help. If I could turn off the comments for individual entries I'd turn it off for this one. Unfortunately it's an all-or-nothing proposition. This particular entry is to provide a context for my being silent since Thursday, and so it won't be such a surprise if I'm quiet for much of this week, too.

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