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.
It seems silly to be single with no kids and only one job and say, “I don’t have the time or energy to deal with starting a relationship.” But I’ve just gotten home at 7 p.m. after an unexpectedly late evening at work, which isn’t unusual. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, and the only thing I want in me is tater tots and a glass of wine. And then I want to go to sleep like the fat, tranquilized bear that I am.
I’m having one of those weeks where I can’t understand how anyone has time to do anything, ever. You people are fucking wizards, I swear.