Dang.

I wish I could write that I haven’t cried since the last time I wrote, and had I posted this just an hour ago, I would have actually been able to, but now? I am, once again, bawling my eyes out.

No matter how good life is to me -and it has been good, what with my vacation from work this week and the news that I’ve been accepted into vet school- I always manage to fuck things up somehow. I always end up in tears and down, way down, from my high. I always end up questioning why I can’t simply enjoy life.

Then I feel much too dramatic and stupid. Life isn’t perfect. At twenty-six, I should know that by now.

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