Sigh: A Slow Expulsion of Breath

I won't lie. It's been a hard week. A damn hard week. First there was the craziness of Sunday/Monday/Tuesday. Two-hours of sleep in 48 hours isn't the best way to end your Spring Break - especially after you spent most of the break studying 10hours/day.

Then there was the craziness of Tuesday night, that caused mayhem, confusion, and oodles of nastiness. Add in the lack of sleep and an already-short temper, and you have a recipe for hell.

Wednesday was good. I literally did nothing of merit, apart from saving over $150 at Century 21. And then I went out with friends, met some new friends and walked the 20+ blocks home.

Thursday. Oh Thursday. Should I call it the hardest day of my life? Maybe not. Maybe not yet. It's always hard to deal with things breaking down. Although I've known that the process started a while ago and saw it happen, the extent to which the cracks have appeared is starting to freak me out. I've seen such cracks before. I've seen the consequences of those cracks. I also know that the repercussions of these particular cracks will be huge and that there's very little - how shall I say this - impetus, yes that's the right word, there's very little impetus to mend the cracks. It's almost as if a resignation has set in. The cracks are there. It takes too much to fix them. So I won't. Sad, no?

I'd do the exact opposite. But then again, my way of doing things isn't the same as others. It never has been. I'd try fixing them. I'd put in all my effort into fixing them, even if it required hurting myself in the process. I wouldn't do it for myself. I'd do it for the ones who'd be affected the most.