Today is Wednesday and it is my third consecutive day in the office. The traffic was bad. I want to go home. It’s not even 9:00am yet and I already want to go home. I am going to have a super busy, super stressful work day today. I just don’t feel up to it. Ugh.

As I walked in this morning the guy who sits next to me said good morning. I said good morning in return, but the thought that went through my head was something like good morning apart from the usual soul crushing existential dread. Another day, another walk through the shadow of the valley of emotional wreckage. You know how it is. Of course I exaggerate a little, and I also… ya know… edited my thoughts… like you do.

That lead to another thought. A lyric from a Triumph song. “Another day, another dollar, another pretty face. Another chance to lose yourself in this endless race.” That’s from the song Hold On from the album Just a Game. It’s a good record.

I think I am feeling gloomy for a physical reason. Let me tell you all about it.

When I was a high school brat I had a period where I dealt with some pretty bad acne. Not as bad as some of my classmates, but for a little window of time there it was bad. Bad enough that we asked a doctor about it. They put me on some Retin A (or whatever it was called) and it helped a little. Mostly, just getting through puberty is what resolved the issue. Fast forward to yesterday and I felt like something was in my eye. Weird. My right eye kept getting watery and that would blur my vision just a tiny bit. I thought maybe it was the start of a little conjunctivitis. Yippee for me. This morning I discovered the truth. It’s not pink eye or anything like that. It’s a pimple… on my lower eye lid. No, let me rephrase… it’s a great big muther of a zit and it’s on my lower eye lid. What the hell?

A zit on my eye that is big enough to cause my eye to water a little and I can just about almost see it. Again I ask, what the hell?

So if you’re wondering why I am in a weird funky mood today, that is probably it. Chalk it up to teenage acne coming back for another round of fun in my 50’s and punching me right in the freakin’ eye. Stupid zit. Stupid, stupid zit.