It’s an interesting concept to walk around permanently furious and try and appear normal.
I’ve been keeping this up for the past almost two weeks. Because I’ve had serious work commitments that require me to be focussed and functional. And normal (in case I haven’t mentioned that before].
But holy fuck. I’m so mad.
Usually when I’m this angry I cry. And then I get even more angry.
But I’m past that point of crying angry.
The issue at hand is a family member who has categorically not taken care of himself because that fat slice of chocolate cake is far more important than the ever-extending gut that precedes him. The Artist jokes that he’s The Machine – consuming everything and anything in his wake.
And this is all well and fine and funny at a family BBQ or around a dinner table. However when the result of which is a failed medical that has far reaching consequences for all of us – not so funny.
Despite the fact that I had some major projects reaching fruition at work over the weekend and in the first few days of this week, Friday saw me running panicked all over Sydney to sort shit out. My overwhelming thanks go to a certain lady in my office who told me to just do my shit, not worry, and that work would be okay. Tears in my eyes. I love you forever – and you know who you are.
I have no idea how this is going to play out or end up. But you’ll hear about it all here
The powers that be assure me that it’s going to be okay. I’m so close to it I guess I can’t see the wood for the trees. Or that it will be okay.
All I know is that it is so unnecessary to even be here at this point. And on a macro or micro level I know that I should be more concerned about the health issue as opposed to the political one. The Artist has tried to point this out to me. And I recognise this but I know that I am powerless to execute change.
Which makes me so angry. So very very angry.
And this is my first post (I think) without any photos to lighten the mood. Because at the end of the day, I’m also so sad. So very, very sad.