My old friend Mig asked me to guest-author a post today since he is suffering from stress at the moment due to worrying whether he’ll be able to hack the metamorphosism challenge idea-wise, also his wife just called him all shaky-voiced and told him that she’d just been in a traffic accident but was okay but her car she just forced mechanics to fix yesterday for free is like, whoa, dude, and she won’t be going in to work today after all, that feasibility study will just have to wait, and best of all it wasn’t her fault; his favorite uncle’s heart attack had of course been getting to him as well, frustrating to be so far away and limited to email news and occasional telephone calls; but the old guy phoned Mig himself last night from the hospital bed and sounded good, a little shaky and weak, but you know, he’d just had a fucking heart attack, they’d restarted his heart one dozen times in a single day, you know? Also it was the first time the guy’d been on drugs in eighty years, so given all that he sounded quite impressive. All this worrying – Mig hadn’t thought it was affecting him, but his family noticed and he had to admit it when they pointed it out. Disoriented (more than usual), amnesiac and forgetful to a concerning degree. Of course, Mig is a wussy, people go through far more than this on a daily basis, but he decided to take a day off from blogging.

Personally, I support his decision. It’s important to give yourself a mental health day now and again, even if nothing major seems to be eating at you. It’s the little things that make you snap, after all. The empty gas tanks and the broken shoestrings. The moldy toast bread in the morning when you’re out of everything else, the daily grind of a career that didn’t take off the way you thought it would, you know, like you’re surfing porn in a cubicle instead of writing the great novel you expected, or instead of starring in jungle action films you’re fucking jumping through hoops somewhere, Vegas say, for a couple flashy German twats.

We all have our breaking point.

Go find some moss somewhere and lie down before you start forgetting where you put your glasses. Embrace the sublime for a couple minutes. If anyone asks what the hell you’re up to, send them to me.