| 14 July 2009
I've been taking calls all morning long from close friends and people I haven't spoken to in months. The conversation usually goes something like this:Them: "Hey, how are you holding up?"
Me: "*Long sigh* I...shit...I just don't....damnit....*Long sigh*
I was driving to Sonic earlier this afternoon and found myself getting lost in my thoughts and momentarily forgetting where I was and what I was doing. I'm not holding up well at all. I don't feel like drinking my sorrow away. I don't feel like getting out to take my mind off of things. I just want to sit in my room, draw the curtains, and sit in despair.
I know this season's not over. I'm not even giving up on our National Championship hopes. And I'll bounce back soon and be as jacked as ever for Texas. But I need 24 hours to feel sorry for myself. I need to wallow in self-pity for awhile.
Rather than trying to describe how I feel, I think I'll show a classic movie clip that sums it up better than any combination of words ever could.
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