I don’t feel like writing today.

No ideas seem good, nothing is grabbing my attention.

I have a vague sense of anger and dis-ease about it all. I’ve written close to a thousand words, and thrown them all away. I was going to write about resentment being a problem of expectations, not other people, but it came off sounding too harsh and preachy.

I’ve cruised around on the internet. Not looking for ideas, but avoiding writing.

I’ve learned about a study that says that moral outrage is self-serving. This sounds interesting, but I need to read it more thoroughly.

I’ve read how Trump is going to save America, and destroy it. I’ve seen how it’s not okay to put your feet on the couch or remain seated when other people stand up and clap. I’ve looked at memes about libertarianism and slow drivers and Ash Wednesday. I know what some people are giving up for Lent.

I laid out my three goals for the day: make a spare key to my office, continue compiling a list of topics this blog has covered and workout. I looked online for wall anchors.

I’ve tried to plan a trip to New Orleans for Spring Break, but I don’t have the mental energy to figure out whether or not this or that affordable hotel is close enough to the things we want to see.

None of this has made me feel any better, or any worse. The vague unhappiness persists.

This morning is just about a profound sense of discontent and anxiety, and that’s okay.

Maybe I didn’t sleep well, I remember having a lot of dreams. Maybe it’s something I ate, maybe I’m getting sick, maybe it’s an ill portent of things to come. Maybe it’s Trump’s fault. Or Obama’s. Pretty sure Lena Dunham has something to do with it.

Or maybe I am human and some days are just difficult and things don’t go the way we want them to. Maybe there is no cause, it’s just something that is happening.

Maybe this is all irrelevant, and only an issue if I get invested in wishing I felt differently.

Maybe I still get to choose how I respond to things, and I can still do the things I do without bitching and moaning about it.

Being content with being discontent.

If I forget I feel bad today, do I still feel bad?