This sweater is designed to let everyone know EXACTLY where my vagina is.
Unbelievable on Netflix is the best show that I can’t actually recommend. I don’t normally HAVE feelings, and even *I* alternated flinching and nausea.
It would be wonderful if it hadn’t really happened.
“Stop beating yourself up.”
“But beating myself up is my cardio.”
Describing my past week or so to the therapist…
Therapist: “So…do me a favor and keep an eye on that, because that could be depression creeping back in.”
Me: “Um, nope. No, it’s not, because I JUST paid $85 to see the nice lady with the meds, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m paying it again before my next appointment.”
Time to see if I can “cheap” my way out of a mood disorder!
(I am not doing things I’m supposed to be doing, so I will endeavor to do those things. If it doesn’t help I will certainly go see the nice lady.)
Hi, my father just shared this on Facebook with a “Hee,” so if you need me I’ll be jumping out a window.
It’s probably somehow significant that I’m listening to an audiobook about sexual assault, and so far the only time I’ve needed an emotional break is the chapter that begins with the 2016 election.
“My friend’s teenaged daughter is on a date tonight and I’m at home watching ‘Catching Fire’ again and waiting for pizza delivery. I suck.”
“Do you WANT to be on a date?”
“Fuck no, that sounds exhausting.”
Right, then. That was easy.
I mean…Yeah, sure. I’m home alone on a literal dark and stormy night — why WOULDN’T this be my choice of entertainment?
(And yes, I still get Netflix discs because I am An Old. Blow me and then get off my lawn.)