What was I supposed to feel, four hours ago?

I ask because it's become quite clear to me that what I actually feel - this is so irrelevant that I'm the only one who even notices it anymore. And even that's only barely.

I ask what I was supposed to feel, because I have no idea.

Relieved? Irritated? Hopeful? Hopeless? Frustrated? Loving? Useful? Useless? Guilty? Happy? Sad? Nostalgic?

Tell me what I was supposed to feel. Is it the same thing as yesterday, when almost the exact same fucking thing happened?

And, while you're at it, tell me what I'm supposed feel right now. Now that it's been four hours.

I go hours and days and weeks. In the past, I've gone months and years. Four hours certainly used to be something, but now it's nothing nothing nothing nothing.

Tell me.

Better yet, reach inside me and place the proper emotions into those empty places wherever you see fit.

My vote, if I'm allowed a vote, is for irritated. I was having a nice afternoon with HatGirl, and the woo-hoos of my phone were a distraction. Ironically, the lack of woo-hoos right now is proving to be a distraction from breathing. But I've been wrong before. I'm probably supposed to be feeling something else entirely.

Tell me what that was supposed to accomplish, and I'll do my best to comply. I've got nothing better to do, after all.