When...

...does the frustration stop?

I had one of those days that you would not wish on your worst enemy's pit bull. Half of it was spent trying to deal -- unsuccessfully -- with work issues. And half was spent on a Quixotic project a friend has asked me to participate in, one that could be a source of great pleasure.

If....

That word always seems to creep in to everything I want to do these days. Nothing is simple and straightforward. There's always an "if..." in there somewhere.

If my aunt had wheels, she might be a golf cart.

I thought I might explain this project, but it would likely bore or puzzle you. It involves one of my many non-remunerative skills.

All I'm really trying to do is avoid going to sleep. My waking state is bad enough; when I sleep, I am regularly visited by demons I can't seem to chase away. One of them even has a face, a name, and a voice...she seduces me when I sleep, rejects me when I'm awake.

Perhaps some single-malt anesthesia will help. At this point, I'll try damn near anything to not wake up in a state of despair....

Good night.