That old Shitty Feeling

Outside my blind covered window, I have a view of someone else’s terrace. It is covered with miniature ponds, and all day I have been watching the wind make various patterns with the water. This is what I do for a living. What do you do?

The real reason I am watching wind puddles is because in the pit of my stomach I have that old shitty feeling. The kind that sits low in your belly, like an ache that connects to what you imagine is your heart. I call it the Old shitty Feeling. It isn’t sorrow, because nothing has been confirmed yet, it isn’t despair nothing has happened yet, it isn’t sadness, it isn’t malice, it isn’t anger.

The old shitty feeling is the dread of what is to come. It is the obligatory bawling before bed, the endless pondering of situations and dissection of conversations. It is the re-living of every minute detail; every now-not so enchanted memory. That Old Shitty Feeling. Mostly it is the utter annoyance at knowing that the situation is absolutely beyond your control. That no matter what no one will emerge clean and sanctified, or on the flip side, bloodied and mauled. Instead it will be a resolution of mediums. A medium admittance of guilt and stupidity on both sides or a medium half hearted resolve to avoid each other.

The most irritating part is the not knowing. I mean dude is ‘lucky’ as usual. He is busy. His life is one big vortex of activity. I am the one with all the time in the world to ponder nothing. So instead of being the proper victim that I rightfully am (yes I am happily and proudly employing a victimized view of the situation and bah!!!!!!! To all you Deepak Chopra’s,) I have been transformed into the penile dependent-tee, meekly waiting for the final decision on my fate, wondering how in the world did he get the upper hand? After all was it not I who discovered the incriminating tasteless t-shirt, pompously declaring itself and its owner ‘lucky,’ which really has so many metaphorical meanings that it must point to the existence of a much too clever manic-ical god or demented devil.

Lucky ~ I obviously am not!