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Life's gall
2006-03-15, 8:36 p.m.

I'm trying so hard to come up with an entry that breaks out of my current trend. I am totally aware that no one really cares to read a diary that does nothing but bitch all the time. Not that it matters much, I don't really do this for the purpose of entertaining others anyway. I love my husband (even though he's been 'Hurricaine Jeff' lately--Just a little accident prone, that's all) and I love my son, who is quite possibly the most unbelievably adorable child that I've ever laid eyes on. Besides those two very important aspects, mostly everything sucks. I am thankful, as always to have such an above-average, good relationship with my brother, but he lives in the next state and is a busy little bee anyway with his newfound motivation in chewing up and spitting out any kind of class that those silly Indiana colleges can throw at him. I am thankful for the few good friends that I currently associate with on a regular basis, but mostly they are the few co-workers I have that I can tolerate, so my interaction with them is usually tainted by whatever the daily workplace drama is. I am thankful that my car is a beast. It has been showing signs that the transmission might be acting up, but still it perseveres.

In spite of my bitching and moaning and also my PMS, I'm not depressed. I'm not miserable. I know all about the good things in life. I'm just exhausted and frustrated with the things that aren't good and show no promise of improvement.

In Summary:

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of it's own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox



last - next

Women... And stuff... - 2012-08-19
Sniffles - 2012-08-18
Time to kill while waiting for a late dinner... - 2012-08-11
0.0 - 2012-08-05
Locked and Isolated in BlogLand - 2012-08-03





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