Other shoe.

I feel like I need to write something, something about how I'm anticipating the third bad thing to happen to me (see: huge car repairs and non-existent fire). But my head is a foggy mess and I'm struggling to string together enough words to hit upon a coherent sentence. How'm I doin'?

I'm pretty sure it's the accumulation of the past week and then today, which was fine in all ways, even an especially good evening with M and P and C and then later C, but has made me feel like I'm swimming upstream in thick, chunky soup. That's heated to a low boil.

This points to my bad character, but when I get like this, I really want to be mean to someone. Not a random someone, I'm not that bad (yet), but someone who deserves it. Someone who I can cut into little tiny pieces with my dagger-like tongue and make them rethink their life choices and put them on the Road to Epiphany which is much like the Silk Road, but, really, not.

Mostly, I just want to be really, really mean to someone. And make them cry.

Which makes avoiding people I have iffy feelings about imperative.