The Day is Iffy

I don’t know if I’m going to pull it, today.

The tightness that began in my chest when I learned that the ass-hats who have my birds are about to screw me over, again, due to their combined control pathos so that I might lose them, forever, has not budged.

I slept in 30 minutes stretches between hours of anxious wakefulness. I don’t even know if I managed a full 3 hours of sleep.

I know I was freezing my ass off outside before 6 a.m., this morning. I still can’t feel my damn feet.

Combining this imminent state of anxious panic with my lack of rest, no where to use a bathroom, not having been able to take a shower since early last week, another prospective day crammed in this 2′ x 2′ opening without food and surrounded by open hostility from once beloved people who have squarely lost their minds in some black pit of badness. (Real badness, as in evil bad not not bad-ass bad) .. it’s the queasy, greasy disquiet felt after eating a questionable burrito.


I have to keep my head out of my ass. Seriously.

So, this is what I got to work with, today. I have to begin with prayer. It’s literally all I have left, what remains of my mind. Imagine that.

Psalm 138:7 
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.

I don’t know if I’m going to pull it, today, but, God knows I am going to try with everything I’ve got

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