Sitting on the floor of the (garage) bay

I have been informed by one who knows me well that one sentence in my last post makes me sound like a "selfish asshole."

The line in question:

And part of me would not want to take any steps to get better but would just want to quit, blow my retirement and die.

I assure you my intent was to show neither selfishness nor asshole-ness.

As I was sitting on the floor off the garage yesterday, waiting for my sister to come home and help me up, I had time to consider this opinion. My bike moved as I was transferring out of it with Mom's help.

The point of the post is that I am feeling crappy, which maybe explains this feeling.

But maybe not.

My sister (who else would call me an "asshole") also threatened to make me watch Dangerous Minds to hear Dylan Thomas' "Do not go gentle into that good night." I do like Michelle Pfieffer, though I prefer Rodney Dangerfield's performance of the poem.

The post points out that only a part of me feels like giving up, and I am not sure that even Ms. Pfieffer's Cat-Woman could get that part of me to regret feeling this.

I rage just about every second I am awake.  It wears you out.

So while I will never, ever, ever give in to this part of me, I am not sure I'll ever not feel it.

Oh, OK, if Cat-Woman asks.