So, I have a rant, but my feet and hands and face are tired. Have you ever been there? To the point where your face, even in its most lax state, is exhausted? Your hands are cramping. The brain you rely on to get you through the day is spinning, but it's the fattest laziest rat in the thinking wheel, and he just wants some cheese.
It's been a tough week. Please don't remind me it's only Tuesday and Tuesdays are actually the very first day to the start of my week. I know this. No sense beating me with the miserable fact. I cried today. In front of people. Yeah, not the highlight of the last twelve hours. These emotions are running high. Funds are running low. And I feel as if I never get a second to breathe.
Then, there's this voice at the back of my head that asks, "Why do you even bother?" Because sometimes trying and striving to do good and be good is so weakening - spirit, mind and body. I'd go on but my hands are aching. Even if my brain was functioning at it's normal level of awesomeness, my hands are staging a strike and saying this needs to end here or they will start picketing until I provide them with better working conditions.