Wow. As good as my vacation week was, with all of its travel karma falling perfectly into place, the week following turned into a pustulant, oozing boil of suckiness. Nothing horrible, but just putting me into that "One more thing goes wrong and I scream" sort of mode.
Some of it is work related - a potential project failed to come to fruition, a rearrangement of positions at the office, a project that was done and approved is suddenly not approved, something I was going to promote here suddenly CAN'T be promoted until things get sewn up.
And some of it is the rest of the world - GenCon is sued by Lucasfilm. GenCon declares bankruptcy. The Tolkien estate is suing New Line, who despite the success of the Lord of the Rings movies, hasn't paid Tolkien's people royalties. Paul Randles' last game is seeing publication, which should be a good thing, but it is a reminder that Paul, a great game designer, isn't with us anymore.
And it seems that a large crop of my friends are suffering from personal illness, family troubles, work disasters, or a combination of all three.
And my wrist still aches from a slide down a hillside in Hawaii, and I've got a nasty zit. Acne, at my age. Blech!
The thing is, nothing is absolutely, life-re-examiningly horrible - its just that it has all hit at the same time, a triple-high-point in the biorhthyms of Suck. I'm just going to stand and marvel at its strange timing, its ruthless precision. I feel simultaneously cranky and a little ashamed of being so cranky about such a plethora of small matters.
So I think I'll go to an art exhibit of Bob Crumb's work, just so I can see what real crankiness is all about.
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