Smudgemama's Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

Way back in the tenth grade I had one of the hardest days of my life. Without going into too many details it basically consisted of had my boyfriend, intimacy and him not being solely intimate with me. I cried and cried. I felt like a moron. And I cried and cried some more. My German teacher, Mr. Pittner, gave me a photocopy of "Alexander's Horrible No Good Very Bad Day" because he could see I was thisclosetotheledge. His kind gesture talked me down off the ledge (proverbially). It didn't make things all better, but it did start the healing because I knew someone cared about my pain---that I wasn't alone. And listen, ask Harold Kushner, author of "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" and he'll tell you too, shitty things just happen. (Being a Rabbi he'll probably not use that exact phrase, but the sentiment is the same.) They just do. You don't deserve them or maybe you do, but that isn't why they happened. Shitty things just happen.

And I've had a shitty-things-happen-kinda-day. I could feel it coming. I knew I was the bug and I knew the windshield was approaching but I just forged ahead because I had no choice. We all have choices, so that is a lie. But my other choices would be more like hitting a cinderblock wall instead of a mere glass windshield. So the lesser of two evils was to keep on, keepin' on.

Of course, this being a public blog and having too many personal contacts know of it, I can't divulge details. Which sucks because I really just want to spew my day's details forth and say, "Okay, yes, I've made mistakes but none of them warranted this." And what sucks more is that, that last statement applies to both my professional and social life. I was sandwiched in between two hard, stale pieces of crap bread where I had two different "superiors" from two different areas of my life telling me the same thing. I could see where one was coming from...but the other person was full of crap and I am growing weary of being treated like a 12-year-old girl who doesn't know her ass from her elbow.

So I'm hanging in there, by a thread, but hanging in there. People have responded to my SOS calls and cared about the pain I was in and that is a blessing in itself and I am grateful for that.

Tomorrow I hope to find the humor again. But today I feel attacked from both sides.