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I've been feeling really bad these couple of days, and I cried when I laid down for my nap this afternoon, feeling bad about my life-failure, my whole 'failure to launch'. I wondered what might have brought this mood about, and a clever theory comes to mind. When I figured out how to work the weed-eater yesterday morning, I was feeling pretty good about myself, like, I really am a pretty smart dude. Maybe this got me to start thinking about how it is unconscionably unfair that I was not allowed to soar, to make money and get pretty girls, that people have instead left me to wither away and die in my own shit. Of course, the answer to this is: I am really overestimating the intelligence and talent of being able to figure out a weed-eater.
