I kinda think it’s funny that people think I’m in good shape right now despite this happening last Thursday. Really, I do a pretty good job of holding it together and being just fine on the surface, but underneath I’m a complete mess.

How does this mess manifest itself? Well, I completely forgot that Sunday is Father’s Day; I should maybe do something about getting the ol’ Modern Dad a gift. … I’ve got a stamped and addressed envelope in the car that I’ve forgotten to put in the mail for three days running. … And yesterday when I put my paper-thin flip flops on to weigh in at Weight Watchers, I forgot to put my real shoes back on. It took me about three hours (and treks all around the office and to the house and back) to realize I wasn’t wearing the shoes that I started the day in and then another hour to locate them. Sigh.

I was being truthful about the whole friendship thing — we are friends, and I’m not upset with him in any way. I’m so glad to have him around and still see or talk to him on a near daily basis. But I am going through the same emotions that everyone goes through when a relationship doesn’t go the way you’d hoped — the generic sad feeling and the overanalyzing and the silly, basic worries about yourself and your love life. I’ve just been a little more private in processing this one compared to the last because I feel like I need to be.

And really, I think I’d be in much better shape right now if it weren’t for a number of other things stressing me out. Like the phone call I got from work Thursday that has caused me all kinds of problems this week and taken away all motivation to do anything in the office.

And the move. Ohhhhh, the move. It’s starting to hit me just how much has to be done before I can even begin to move, and then there’s the whole bit of putting things in boxes, transporting those boxes (and the furniture) and then unpacking those boxes. I was so spoiled having my company move me the last time around that I think it’s making this one so much worse.

And in true straw-that-broke-the-camel’s-back form, I nearly lost it this morning when my iPod decided to freeze in the middle of syncing, causing iTunes to completely reject the notion that the iPod even existed. (Thankfully it was nothing that Google couldn’t solve.)

I hesitated, as usual, to share any of this with anybody because I hate for anyone to feel sorry for me. Despite the fact that I would immediately feel badly for any one of my friends going through all this, I hate the notion of anyone wasting that feeling on me.

You know what I’d rather have? I’d rather have Mary Poppins drop from the sky and snap her fingers and and all of my belongings float through the air from house No. 1 to house No. 2 and be in their proper places upon landing. I’d rather have two weeks’ vacation from work and an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe. I’d rather have Paul Rudd or Justin Timberlake walk through my door and tell me something so funny that I laugh until I cry and then hold me until I stop crying.

But I’m old enough to know none of those things are going to happen. I’m going to have to open a box and start putting things in it and hire some movers and talk some friends into helping me. I’m going to have to sort things out at work and try to do better next time. And no matter how exhausting it can be, I’m going to have to keep dating until I find that guy who’s going to make me laugh until I cry and hold me ’til I smile.

And that, modern friends, is one of those grand and obnoxious life lessons I’ve learned the hard way in the past six months: You can’t expect something good to magically happen in your life just because so many bad things have happened and you probably deserve better. You’ve got to scoop yourself up off the floor and do some stuff even when you don’t want to. You’ve got to tell your friends what’s going on inside your head so they can prop you up when you need it, even when you don’t want to. You’ve got to take everything a step at a time until eventually order is restored and your world doesn’t seem so off-kilter.

So that’s what I’m trying to do.

I’ll still take that European vacation, though.

And maybe a chocolate cream pie shake from Sonic.