Fail.

I decided earlier tonight that I'd get rid of things that make me feel as though I've failed.  My Etsy account, for starters.  I just don't use it, and it weighs on me.  My textbooks, which lay on the end table, mocking me, reminding me that I couldn't hang.  My turkeys, which we can't winter, but I can't eat.  "Friends" that I just don't have time to be friendly too (or who don't seem to have time to be friendly to me).

But then I thought, if I were really getting rid of things that I felt as though I've failed at, I'd be a lonely naked shell of a person.

I'd have to add to the list:  Parenting, Marriage, Employment, Money&Bills, My Messy Ass Bedroom, My Ass, All of the half finished projects I've started....the list could go on forever.

I can't sleep tonight, so even sleeping can be added to failing.

I couldn't wait for today to be over, so I could start fresh tomorrow.  And here I am, awake, prolonging my night, so I have to wait that much longer to get to tomorrow. 

When I was younger, a night like this would mean something bad was going to happen.  I used to think it was pretty cool, my ability to see into the future, to predict the demise of someone. 

I don't think it's cool anymore. 

I just want to sleep.

Fail.