I've had a couple of real shit weeks. In all the years I've been with my company, the last two weeks have been, by far, the worst I've ever had to endure. I don't know what else to say about it as complaining won't help. Once I've pulled myself out of the mire, maybe I can opine on how I dealt with things. Just in survival mode now.
I read and I wonder, "What kind of mire captures a powerful soul like you?" Is it a mire such as the deep mud of an Iowa barnlot; which holds you in place 'til you pull your boot free with a great vacuumy 'schlawk'? Or perhaps a mire like the mental funk that occupanies the boring routine of adulthood; that can only be shaken by engaging in a squirtgun fight? Or maybe the mire found at the bottom of too many whiskeys and not enough laughs? Whatever the case, I wish you the power to free your boots, shake the funk, put down the glass, and survive the shit.
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