Minutia vs the Infinite

Today was solid frustration at the computer. Recalitrant programs with embedded errors yielded significant time spent for no return. Such minutia doesn't send me to the cleaners. Rather it's going to the show alone. Having those few women I wish to connect with be on different planes. Having passed that age of friendship. Refusing to cash in all my chips and actually do that which I wish to do. A lack of will you might call it.

Am I the only one who feels like this? That I am no longer on top of the world? That it can spin quite well without me, regardless it will. The direction being all too banal, too embedded with force, too unchangable, and quite, well, not in the right direction.

Don't be shy. Comment.