A Poor me Rant.

It's almost midnight and I can't sleep because the waterfall of tears that land on my pillow make it wet and uncomfortable. And I can't breathe because you know how when you cry your nose gets all stuffed up so that it makes it difficult to breathe.

Stupid mucus.

You think you're on this endless happy tour but the 'travel adventure of a lifetime' takes a reality detour to the slums of Mumbai and all of a sudden its poverty and hardship everywhere.

I know that I think others have it easy and just sail through life - and that's just not the whole story. But fuck, my life has been hard. And thank you universe, it just got harder.

I am thankful for all the wonderful things and I am even thankful for the suffering because I have grown and it has made me a stronger, more compassionate human being. Fuck me.

Just once, I wish things would come easy. I do.

I want to not have these high hopes nor expectations of others but I can't help myself. And I do subscribe to the Buddhist philosophies which say that the root of our suffering is craving and aversion.

But frankly at this very moment, I just can't get into being a shiny happy buddhist. Fuck it, so what if it's true that if I could just let go of the craving for happiness and the aversion of suffering that I'd reach enlightenment. Right now, I blame the root of my suffering on all the shitty stuff that has happened to me and continues to happen.

I was going to write a thoughtful blog about how our lunchtime seminar last week made me think universities are embarking on a bleak and tortured financial winter that may last a few years. But instead, I am going to be self-absorbed and vent about 'my poor me' life. No I won't give the details of my personal life. I just want a space to purge.

I've been dealing with this pretty well for the last couple of weeks but I guess earlier today when I told a friend about what was happening in my life, it all of a sudden became more real. Funny how talking about it releases you from denial. And tonight, all I can do is weep.

I weep silently because HippieHusband is sleeping and I don't feel like waking him. Plus he's clearly in a deep sleep - I can tell by the semi-snore, puffing noise that is coming from that side of the bed.

And really words just wouldn't suffice, personally, I think my nose mucus tells the whole story.

It's okay, I know that one day, I will look up and see Time. She will clasp my hand and whisper sweetly, this too shall pass. And as I have before, I will believe Her.