Rollercoaster Tuesday Wow, much has happened today. I got into a bunch of verbal scraps. An email nearly stopped my heart. A voice comforted me. And my precognitive abilities tell me that I will be drunk shortly. This is what happens when you're depressed, suffering from withdrawal, and really don't like your job. Justin and Kate were the latest victims of my blog angst (or livejournal angst, as the case may be). I got into it with Shane and Ben already, and we exchanged some ideas. I was snarkier with Justin and Kate so it didn't go over as well. Justin was calmer (naturally) and we actually had an interesting conversation. Kate pretty much flipped out, which was somewhat warranted. Either way, I still think I'm right and my point is just, but I fully admit that my delivery was poor. So for the latter, I'm sorry. I also got into an AIM scrap with Rannie. She pretty much went from zero to psycho in under six seconds. I was actually fine with everything until she took it to another level and I sunk down to it. I said some stupid things after that point, but to check myself I went back a few hours later to see how it all started. This one was definitely not my fault. In the afternoon I received an email explaining why my "anticipated guest" didn't come to the party. Just hearing from her hit me like a ton of bricks. I can't describe how much I miss her because it has nothing to do with time or distance; there's just this delicate barrier between us that neither of us really wants, but both of us know is the right thing ... even though in some ways it's the wrong thing for her too. It's not easy for her and it sucks for me. *sigh* The incongruity of what is right and what feels right often bothers the f*ck out of me ... especially when doing the "right" thing is ultimately wrong for both of us (in my mind anyway). So after alternating between hyperventilating, weeping, and trying to mentally give myself a heart attack (don't ask), Kitten called to comfort me. I'm so grateful for her care. We suffer from the same dementia so she understands what I'm feeling better than I could ever explain (unless I had a few months ... or maybe years). I guess that's the big problem here. The whole thing is ridiculous and real at the same time. I don't want to have to explain to someone why and how so much happened in such a short time. Actually, I don't think I could do it if I wanted to -- it would just sound incredibly ludicrous. If you have to ask then I can't really explain it to you. It's something that has to be experienced or you won't be able to relate. Bleh, I need a drink.