Good news, sort of. Things got worse and worse until about five o'clock, at which point things peaked and I've been at the same level of "Fuck my goddamn life today." since then.
I did get off work early, so that's the one plus of the day. It's the little things in life, isn't it?
"I find it is the little things in life that help keep the darkness at bay, not great acts."
Yep. It may sound foolish, but small things really do make a difference, even if the only darkness being fought is the drudge of day-to-day life.
Especially in the drudge of day to day life.
Here's a poem I know you like, and which I also like:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Take the message to heart!
Never give up! No surrender!