I know so much, but not enough to help myself solve the problem of all my knowledge. Sticky one. I unbelievably have the same problem thinking I did when my husband was using. Who would have thunk it? My problem is seeing things as problems. I don't get the pro in problem.

I'm snagged. I keep wearing the same loosely knit sweater through the tight, naily-walled hallway of life. Fuck the sweater. Fuck the hallway.

I feel much like my kid when he's having difficulty putting on a sock. He cries his frustrations aloud, as if crying is helping him figure it out. I think I may be stuck in that three YO phase only I'm not crying I'm shutting down to think about how to put that sock on. He eventually asks for help or takes the offer of it. I am an adult and don't necessarily have help. I like puzzles. I can solve this, I say, meanwhile growing more frustrated that life isn't stopping to wait for me to find a solution to my problem. My kid's goal is to get outside and play. My main objective is ruined and forgotten as I beat myself up to find an answer to one more problem.

It also feels like when my group had to spend an extra couple days in 11th grade physiology cutting through the fat of our cat. I don't even remember getting to the tootsie roll inside. We had to hurry through the project because it was spring and the warmth was making the cats even funkier. Ah, all the variables. Fuck that cat.

And, in conclusion, MC Hammer was right: "We've got to pray just to make it today." I need a hammer for all those nails.