mid-life existential bullshit
I had written a rather self-indulgent-woe-is-me piece here, but the miracles of technology have wiped this slate clean! I'm glad the text disappeared. Imagine a very nasally whiny voice saying "my job is HAARD. I'm getting OLD. My child yells A LOT. My husband leaves his dirty socks around." wha wha freaking wah.
I'd been feeling a little anxious all weekend, a little existential, a little mid-lifey and then I saw a piece on the refugees in Darfur in Africa. What right do I have to complain? There are women and children without homes or food or future. How does one face the day there? Wheee! we get to walk hundreds of miles to the next camp! Wheeee! i have 4 children to feed. No wonder they don't really notice the flies that land on their faces. Much bigger fish to fry than that.
My set back today? I was out of sugar-free vanilla syrup for my latte. I'm pathetic!
