In which my temper gets me in trouble, again.

Bad, bad, bad day yesterday, followed by the worst night I've had in a long time, and then my first ever hangover this morning. I'm mixed up and hurt and angry, completely unsure if I've been taken advantage of, or if I'm being an inconsiderate asshole myself. It's probably both, and I have no idea what to do about it.

I'm trying to recenter myself by any means I can, because I know I make crappy decisions when I feel like this. Watching the snow is helping. It's hilariously out of keeping with the weather, but I've been trying to clean up a poem I started a couple weeks ago. It's out of step with the snow, maybe, but crushingly appropriate to my mood.


Dandelion in December

You're too pale, you know,
spindly and awkward on a bent stalk.
Trying too hard, that's what,
like you're trying too hard.
The grass is so young.
Youth out of season
is bright smooth green,
not your pale sad yellow,

but there's nothing else blooming
for miles.