There is something about this week …

Some weeks just aren’t supposed to go well. This is one of them.

I know this because whatever posts I manage are 1) very late at night when I know I should go to bed but I’m too buggered up to sleep so I fiddle and fart at my keyboard and, 2) the posts are never about the things I intend to post about – they’re just whiney tappings that, I hope, at least have a therapeutic benefit.

Today, for example, right from the starting pistol, began as a total shit festival. I woke from a dream where my cat, the beloved but annoying Gonzo, was old and decrepit and crossing a road against furious traffic, which she was no match for, and she lost. I dreamed she was hit by a car.

Odd, since she’s a house cat and never goes outside … but it was a dream, where all bets are off.

So I woke depressed and feeling like shit.

Then the glory of the day began and like a turd in a toilet bowl it went under. Is it me or is work generally just one big goddamn pain in the fucking ass?

Yes, I’m bitchy and cranky and now I will go to bed … but not before reading a bit of The Weather Makers, a book about how we’re going to hell in a handbasket because in this world, no one believes we’re killing ourselves until we’re dead.

(Heavens … I am in a black mood tonight! Thus the image of Gonzo baring her teeth. You would too if people were dreaming of you being hit by cars! Upside – tomorrow will be better. I shall make it so.)