I love a good cliche. From more southern climes than here: "just too mean to live" as a description of a particularly nasty excuse for a human? Love it. How fitting that it should really be directed at me today.
Crabby about nothing in particularly. Annoyed by impossibly unimportant things. Distracted by minutiae. Disgusted by a good many things. Just too mean to live.
And truth be told, I should just yoink up my bootstraps and move along.
All things considered, I have food, shelter, an occupation, some pleasant people with whom to work. My family is reasonably stable and kind. I'm not going in for surgery next week, as is a dear friend who now faces the surgery phase of her battle with breast cancer.
Just too mean to post.