About Hook, Line & Sinker

I hate it when I find myself in a situation I know I should avoid, but every part of me just screams "Fuck the circumstances!" and longs to plunge into it headfirst.

I reckon a fish feels this way. That's right. A fish. You know, when he sees a worm twisting around on the end of a hook. I always thought ol' scaly probably knows that a live, wriggling worm dangling right in the middle of the ocean / lake / pond / whatever is too good to be true, but he can't stop himself from chomping down on it. The next thing he knows, he's being reeled in, tossed onto the bottom of a boat, gutted and fried up for dinner.

I must admit, I'm half-tempted to absolve myself from all responsibility by laying the blame on the "bait". (Bloody freaking worm shouldn't look so damn tempting!) But as hard as I try to tell myself otherwise, I know that the final decision on whether I should allow myself to get "hooked" is mine and mine alone to make.

For chrissakes. *bangs head repeatedly on table* Be strong, April. Be smart, for once in your goddamn life!

Damn it. I'm smart. I know I'm smart. I'm fucking brilliant when I put my mind to it. But blast it to hell and back, head smart and heart smart are so not the same thing.

Sigh.