It's quite extraordinary: no matter how happy you get, no matter how giddy and obnoxiously lovey-dovey you become, if there's still a galaxy of despair inside, you can easily slide through the wormhole into the blackness.

Tonight, I was actually near tears when I was accidentally pitched into the past while talking with my amorcita. Same stuff that has been tormenting me for the last couple of years and how I still feel stuck in a huge career tarpit. Anyway, I guess the changes in the last couple of months haven't been enough to completely erase the depression I experienced last year (especially last summer...just look at the archives), and when we got on the subject, it all came rushing back to me to the point where I just couldn't talk any more. I hate the feeling, but what can I do? It's part of me.

And to top it all off, we won't even be able to spend the weekend together, which isn't a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but it's not exactly going to help my current state of mind. I just hope the rest of the week at work doesn't make me want to cut someone.

Why am I posting all of this here? Fuck if I know.

Where are you, Mavis Weld?