On becoming dark cloud with a golden rope

Or Eeyore without a tail

Oh my, dear reader!

Yesterday was a dark foolsletter!

No, I do not want to Trump out the Muslims to Yemen.

This delivery work - these long days?

They’re grinding me down.

And shitty people who take a smiling, well intended comment of Merry Christmas as some sort of mean, offensive attack?

They’re grinding me down too.

I’m like a knife taken to the stone so often that there’s little remaining beyond the handle.

I did not realize that so many people were petty and particular about how their packages showed up at their homes and no amount of charm nor wit matters to those who need to dominate others with whatever excuse the could come up with.

So yeah, I don’t want to send minorities away.

But the easily offended?

I’d be more than happy to pay their uber fare to whatever war zone is most easily accessible.

This evening after reading my post, my lovely wife confided in me that she and our son have taken to calling me Dark Cloud.

Well shit I thought. I’m motherfucking Eeyore. Where the hell did I put my tail?

You’re in a dark place right now love. The work you’re doing is tough and unrewarding. Things aren’t much fun. But know this - I’ve got a golden rope tied to you and I’m helping pull you along. The kids are too.

Christmas will come and go.

This season of meaninglessness will pass as well.

And what’s making it tolerable?

Knowing that I have this imaginary golden rope tied around me and is pulling me home.

Love the people who love you

and?

Merry Christmas.