I, Eeyore

I am so tired of me!

Gloom gloom gloom.

A guy I used to know referred to his mother as "The Little Black Cloud," as in everybody is having fun at a picnic and then on the horizon appears The Little Black Cloud. Debbie Downer. Gloomy Gus. That kind of thing.

And now I'm that guy!

When I run into people I know, I can just see them tense up when they realize that the greeting, "Hey! How's it going?" has escaped their lips, fearful that I might provide the details.

I wish I could shake this, dammit!

I've become Eeyore. "It's not much of a tail, but I've gotten used to it."

So tedious.

But Freud said that Love and Work cured all ailments. I just hope that once I'm issued my orange apron at Ho(t)me(n) Depot my little black cloud will lift.

(By the way, how fitting that I'll be orange for work? It's my favorite color. The only downside there is that I won't be able to wear any of my favorite shirts or sweatshirts or tshirts or such as they tend to be orange, and orange and orange don't go together.)

I look forward to putting my Eeyore days behind me. i'm so much more of a Tigger.