There's really no way to spin it: this weekend sucked.
I consider my "weekend" to begin Friday afternoon/evening. It's basically anything that isn't work. And my works sucks. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse... it's much more so than I could have imagined. I don't even want to talk about it.
So, it was understandable that I got druuuuunk Friday night, right? Not that I should have, or wanted to, or am proud of it.... I was just glad to be done with the week. Of course, the stupid Facebook posts and booking a concert - only to have to apologize all over myself to get out of it - and just being an idiot in general left me feeling pretty down.
Saturday was supposed to be my last double-digit run before the marathon. Only 12 miles, what could go wrong? Well, I hadn't felt good all week, had a serious hangover, and was probably a bit dehydrated.... And it was one of my worst runs in a long time. I could live with a bad run here and there, but this one really sucked everything out of me. Physically and mentally. I lost all confidence heading into the week before the marathon. What if I have covid? What if I can't get over this illness? What if I just can't bring myself to care anymore?
The kitchen remodel? Oh, swell, thanks for bringing that up! Still not done. It's closer, but not finished. However, we started moving our kitchen stuff back into the kitchen this week anyway. Fuck 'em. They can work around us for a change! Sunday I even mustered the gumption to fix the long section of baseboard and trim the contractor screwed up. It seemed easier just to fix it myself. So I took a section of bedroom baseboard and got a new piece for there (we can't find a match to what we had, but it didn't matter on the piece behind our bed). It actually didn't turn out too bad for an amateur.
Just when I was starting to feel a little better about myself though..... I decided to grab the laundry out of the dryer and fold it in the living room while watching some college football. However, I wasn't expecting an open can of paint to be left in the doorway into the living room. Yeah, my dumb ass kicked it over, spilling white paint all over the new kitchen linoleum and living room floor! And like that wasn't bad enough, while running to grab the broom (I know, I don't know why either), I swung the main door (from the kitchen into the garage) open so hard it broke and won't properly open and close now! Fortunately we managed to get the floor fairly clean (most Jane). I just hate when I lose my shit like that though.
I was undone. Completely undone. It was the lowest I've been in awhile. Work, Friday night ignorance, zapped of everything on Saturday's run, and now this. I'm still numb. This "dark night of the soul" is apparently going to last forever. I don't know how much more I can take...
It's not that I don't believe in God. I'm not sure I believe in hope.
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