I’m conscientiously objecting to Thanksgiving dinner with my family this year, in favor of sleeping in, not driving, and avoiding small talk, and now having an irresponsible quantity of Indian food delivered and getting ready to scare myself shitless by watching Ma in the dark.
It is easily one of my top 5 best mental health choices of the year.
I hope you’re all having an equally wondrous and self-determined holiday, and if you’re not, I hope there’s alcohol and pie.
Texting a friend after a chat with my boss…
I went to CVS today and their magazine rack was like, “Hey, you haven’t felt super bad about yourself in a while. Want us to fix that for ya?”
I SURE AS SHIT DO, CVS! Not only that, I will happily pay for the privilege!
Also, yes, that is definitely what every woman I know wears to the gym. Forkin’ NAILED it. 🙄
I’m starting to wonder if Facebook knows something about my vagina that I don’t.
But, point of order: No one’s vagina likes disco.
My therapist told me to pay attention to my feeeelings and ask myself “Why?” when I don’t feel like doing something, and “I don’t goddamn feel like it and you’re not my mom” is not an acceptable answer.
And this is where mood stuff gets dumb. Because what’s she’s saying is that depression can look a lot like “being a lazyfuck garbage monster,” and we have to determine which one I’m doing, and, like… Lady, it’s COLD out, and dark at 4 pm. No one wants to do anything. I am not depressed. Have you looked around? Everything just blows. Motivated people are the problem — medicate THOSE weirdos. Leave me to my blankets.
Gynecologist: “Any pain during sex?”
Me: “Hahahaha, it’s very sweet of you to assume I have any current data on that.”