What The Fuck Am I Supposed To Do With That?

I'm sitting in the recliner this morning, dreading, absolutely dreading, having to go to work.

I was alone, it was quiet - I got tears in my eyes.

Not sad tears, not hurt tears - hopeless tears. Fucking hopeless tears.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

Hopeless tears are the worst. Hopeless tears express the truth about your life with a brutal honesty.

No options, no answers, no relief - just soul killing, heartbreaking, mind numbing fucking emotion expressed as liquid dripping from your eyes.

What did I do? Blinked them back, of course. I am an adult. Tears are an infraction in the rule book.  Even though I was fucking alone, I blinked them back. I'm sure that's a healthy response.

It gets better.

Eventually Carol comes downstairs, now it's getting really fucking close to me having to get up. Put on my fucking costume, drive to work and assume the position.

12 minutes before I have to get up - twelve fucking minutes - Patsy climbs into my lap. Climbs up, curls up, and closes her eyes.

Patsy who is so precious to me, who prolongs my miserable life with her sweet, loving, innocent love - Patsy who makes me smile, who has the tiniest meow any cat could have - so fucking cute - SO fucking cute - curls up in my lap.

Twelve minutes before I have to get the fuck up.

I got tears in my eyes.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

I blinked them back, but some escaped. What a terrible blow to maturity.

12 minutes later I gently nudged her from my lap, put on my costume, drove to work and attached the electrodes to my testicles.