Oh. La la. It’s a new year!
It’s eight o clock and I’m just waiting for bedtime. It’s the highlight of my evening. I’m like, DYING for bedtime. Come oooon bedtime! Let’s go!
It’s not been a good day, but I’ve resolved to pick myself up by my big girl panties and deal with it. Whining and pouting like a simpering, spoiled nitwit isn’t going to help anything. Well, okay, it does make me feel a little better to hide in the closet and have myself a good cry, but only to an extent. After the first hour it just feels self indulgent and a little embarrassing. Not to mention the carpet burns from thrashing around like a lunatic on the closet floor.
I assure you, I am completely sane. First of all, we have a very spacious closet. It’s huge! I leave breadcrumbs when I go in for my wardrobe. Secondly, It was just a long, frustrating day. People are a disappointment and then I feel bad for expecting so much of them so in the end, their failures become my failures. Right? So there’s this person you know and this person doesn’t do the things he or she should do in order to lead a drama-free, successful, at least somewhat happy life. Even though this person knows the right thing to do. They have the answers. They just …don’t choose it. And then this person, this person turns to you like, CONSTANTLY, for validation and a pep talk. “Oh boo hoo. It’s not working out for me. Make me feel better.” Oh ffs, do what you’re supposed to do, don’t do the rest or else don’t come crying to me to make you feel better about your poor, stupid choices.
I assure you, I am completely sane. First of all, that conversation, while technically only in my head and with an imaginary person, it ALSO could very well apply to a conversation that takes place OUTSIDE of my head and with non. ..imaginary… person.
And secondly — I’ve forgotten the second point. But whatever it was, I’m sure it was cleverly constructed in such a way that you’re left with no lingering doubts whatsoever about my sanity.
Psycho killer, qu’est que c’est.
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2 Responses to Run Run Run Away (psycho killer)
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.
Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
I feel really bad for eating all your breadcrumbs. I wondered what they were doing there! Go head on and have your bad day. We’ll survive on heated up meatloaf and microwave mashed potatoes.
I know someone like that too. They make me feel guilty for being sensible (well nearly all the time) about deciding things.
At the beginning of your post I imagined you all crumpled up in the bottom of a dark wardrobe (that’s what we have in Europe unless very rich). Thank you for explaining.
Hope that today is a good one