Fuddy Dud

oh, blah.

seriously, just blah.

i am in such a FUNK, lately. let me recall a few quotes from my nearest and dearest, just so you can begin to understand the shittiness of my recent disposition:

"helga, you've really gotten dark lately." -mads

"baby, you've really got to quit talking like that." -elliott

"do you need me to come down there?" -momma

"first of all, honey, you need a VACATION." -paul

i suppose the best way to surmise exactly how i've been doing is this:
bad.

if it's bad for you, i've been doing it.
if it's tiring, upsetting, or just plain awful - i've probably thought about it, dealt with it, or had to try and overcome it over the past couple of weeks.

in short, i pretty much hate waking up every day.

now, take that bad attitude, and juxtapose it with this:
one of my good friends from back in the day (who is beautiful, and saucy, and funny, and from miami-but is now in NYC)...well, she's been diagnosed with terminal cancer.
and what does she do? she goes and becomes one of the most positive, determined, beautiful, inspiring people she could possibly be.

and, i'm reminded of another saying someone once said to me:
"hillary, some people have REAL problems." -jed

well, he's right. and, you're right. and, i am very, very wrong.

but, what am i supposed to do to turn the grey goo between my ears towards a more positive radio frequency? i really don't know how.

and, for some reason. sari's beautiful optimism got twisted up in my head and made me feel even worse. if i hate being around planet earth so much, then it's the people like me that deserve to be sick, not her.

the world is increasingly confusing and upsetting to me.

i am entirely too sensitive for this place. no lie.

i know this isn't what you wanted to hear, but it's what i needed to write.

ps. i've started playing the guitar, and i've been writing my first song these past couple of days. that has been one source of amusement. though, the entire time my mind is saying, "oh, God...this is bad. something bad is bound to happen because you're not working....you shouldn't be doing this." to that voice i say, "shut up. you get 23 1/2 of the hours of my day...right now, i'm gonna play guitar." and then, the voice in my head usually just resolves to telling me how shitty my playing and writing is, until i give up.

p.p.s. thank God, my momma is flying in, today. this isn't the first time she's had to come in and pick up where i left off in liife.