I’m not having a good week. People have been pointing out my imperfections (all things I’ve actually done or failed to do, so it’s not that I’m being attacked without cause, not that that helps any), I’m tired and cranky and overworked and underpaid and my birthday is coming up and I’m going to be 51, which isn’t a nice round number I can freak out about, like last year, it just means I’m middle-aged, plus I’ve been eating crap so I’m fat and middle-aged, and, oh, BTW, I’ll probably never get laid again, so I’m fat and middle-aged and unattractive.
And I was just eating a mini Butterfinger (sugar will make me feel better, right? – see above for “eating crap”) and I broke a filling on it. And it’s two weeks till I can get an appt. with the dentist so I’m going to spend the next two weeks compulsively prodding the rough spot on the inside of that tooth with my tongue.
Boy, there’s a couple of different ways to approach a post like this, isn’t there? We could do a virtual group hug, or basically dump good-natured abuse on Twickster.
Two weeks? What are the chances they can get you in earlier if you call daily complaining about it? Two weeks is way too long. :mad:
Personally I’ve found myself loudly singing Life’s Gonna Suck When You Grow Up when I’m in the car or alone at work, doesn’t change anything but it’s perversely fun.
Hmph. My favorite (because I’m middle-aged, etc.) is Will I Make It Through the '80s, by Julie Brown – “Nothing in the fridge, nothing on TV, Sylvia Plath has nothing on me!”
I once stuck my head in the oven and turned it on a la Ms. Plath. I forgot it was an electric range and almost burned myself. I was feeling suicidal but I was damned sure not going to feel suicidal and in be in pain also.
Could be worse - you could live with me and you’d be further pissed off because I just finished the last of the chocolates in the house. But since you don’t live with me, there’s no reason for that to piss you off. Right?
