Here I am, laying in bed working myself into misery, helped along by the late, great Otis Redding. I love Otis, but for all of his sorrowful soul I could have picked different music to listen to. I can feel myself spiraling out of control with my rash decisions but now I’m coming down off my high and I’m starting to feel ever so sorry for myself. Anyway with that said I’m not normally in the business of feeling sorry for myself but I indulge in it every once in a blue. If it’s not family, then it’s work and if not work, then it’s love. And this time it’s love or lack thereof. Frankly I would like to give love a swift kick to the groin area for making life so tedious Lol. Ahhhh, alas I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. I’m gonna go bury my head in my book I mean nook and get myself together.

Signing off,

Woeful me…