I am awful sometimes

I am awful sometimes, and looking back through my blog I can see where I have been harsh, unjust, and unfair, not to mention a crappy typist. (I actually spell quite well.) One of my posts turned my mother off reading my blog forever, which is not a bad thing in of itself but her feelings were terribly hurt, which is rotten. I've also posted about someone else, also in harsh terms, but every word was true. At what point do we stop "poking fun"  and just turn into bitches?

On the other hand, I had a massive amount of crap dumped on me this year--much of which I cannot go into--and I DIDN'T complain about that, although perhaps I will. I'm at the crossroads with a job (note that I didn't say career) and the best I can think of to do is to render myself silly with OTC sleeping aids so I can get one night's rest as my acupuncturist is out of town and it's only after a session with the needles that I can get in more than three hours' sleep. I hate worrying about jobs, and money, and all that: gone are the days when I could focus on doing a great job in the classroom or the boardroom and to hell with the personal drama and the cutthroat corporate world. You know what I miss? The days when all I had to worry about was getting to rehearsal on time and looking cute. Youth is a drug, and we are all addicts, fondly reminiscing about past highs.