Originally posted on December 14, 2009
Current mood: grumpy
Category: Life
This is fast
becoming a spectacularly unspectacular day. I'm experiencing an overly-sensitive
episode where I think everyone's out to get me or wrong me in some cold-hearted
way. I spent practically all day Sunday crying like a big ole
silly baby. 😭 My eyes were so swollen that you'd think I'd gotten punched
in both eyes by Mike Tyson, pre-prison. I feel like a defeated & deflated
loser. 😫 Everything feels
off kilter and I feel out of sync with just about everyone right now. When I
feel this pitiful, I don't know anything else to do but to write, so here I
write. This all-consuming feeling of gloom is only exacerbated by
the fact that I'd asked Sis to put me on a strict diet to shed my juicy
extras, which I've
just started on today. Bonus: I get to eat all the lettuce I want! 🥬 In retrospect, I probably should've picked a more emotionally
stable time to start reconfiguring my figure. My mood isn't helping but I
definitely feel lumpier than usual. Carb-watching in my delicate state
might be a recipe for disaster. Depression + Diet (could) =
Danger if I'm not careful. The
seemingly distant chant of the words "Eat me!" coming from the crackers
in my overhead cabinet at work was particularly cruel.😔 Even if I
didn't actually tell you that I was out-of-sorts, you could probably guess by
the unfashionable ensemble I chose to wear to work today. As I joked to my
co-workers, I was severely 'fashionably-challenged' today. To help me feel better, one of my always-fashionable
co-workers told I me that I didn't look bad, just "comfortable". Bless her kind
heart but I knew the truth. I looked like a blind, one armed man dressed me in
hopes of winning the "2009 Truly Tackiest of the
Year" award. 🏆 If the garment
selection wasn't bad enough, I noticed after I got to work this morning that I
had a huge white glob of toothpaste on the front of my shirt. 🪥 Thankfully, I keep an old Mister Rogers' type cardigan in my
office. However, with everything else I had on, I managed to make myself look
even frumpier in it, if that was even possible. As dumb luck would have it, this
was one of the rare occasions when it was actually hot my office. As sweltering as
it was, I didn't dare remove my cardigan. Tacky is one thing but tacky
*AND* messy is quite another. As whoa
is me as this entry is, I'm not looking for sympathy or an encouraging
word like usual (though Sis has been great at it). Frankly, I just want to
bitch, bitch, bitch until I miraculously feel better. 🤬 Hey, it could happen. 🤷🏾♀️ The most
petrifying part of it all is that this might be the best I'll feel for a while
since I still have my period and
crowded Christmas shopping to look forward to. Man, I feel this crappy and it's only Monday. Daaamn, I
could sure use a box of Cheez-Its or Cup-O-Soup right about now. I
suppose that would be a deliciously starchy short-term solution to a potentially
long-term problem. I don't care what anyone says, crack cocaine ain't got shit
on complex carbs! I know what you're thinking, I hate pessimistic whiney
complainers too. 😠 You needn't even say it because I want to kick my own
ample azz. But at the end
of the day, it's not really about diets, defeat or even depression, it's about
feeling free to take your own personal pity day. It's about giving one's self
the permission to feel bad every once and a while...with no apologies. 😣 The way I figure it, if I simply let myself 'feel how I'm
feeling', the flatulently fart-fragranced stink days should be minimal at
best...that's my untested theory anyway. Did I just type the word "fart" and base a whole psychological prognosis
on it? I bet that's never happened before. 🤔 Come to think
of it, my random fart-related diagnosis might have less to do with psychology
and more to with the ungodly amount of lettuce I've consumed today.

No comments:
Post a Comment