Just Kill MeI feel fat. I feel sleepy. I feel vaguely discontented with the world and all its charms. I want to eat an entire lemon chiffon pie with a glass of iced tea and fill up a wading pool and get in and go to sleep. I want to be thinner and more energetic and better looking. I want my hair to behave and the weather to straighten up. I want world peace and population control and a government of uncorrupted politicians. I want a pedicure and a facial and full-body electrolysis. I want a Jaguar convertible and a DVD player and a rocket-launcher.
Here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to get an elastic and pull my hair up off my neck; I am going to go and make some iced coffee; I'm going to stop eating sweets and carbs all day every day, but I'm not going to call it a "diet," I'm just going to stop doing it; I'm going to stop dwelling on what I lack in possessions and possess in waistline, and start thinking about what I can do to make somebody else's day brighter. I am going to buy stamps and corn on the way home (because Grandmother asked me to) and tomorrow I am going to call the Volvo parts store and order a new distributor cap and ding-ding-ding device for the fuse-box that shorted out five weeks ago (and disabled my stereo and overhead lights), so that Miss Marjorie can run right, too. I am going to start reading Daily Reflections in bed in the morning instead of fashion magazines. I am going to quit bitching and take control of my life!
I've said that before, haven't I. Well, maybe this time I mean it. Maybe I don't. But I had to write about something, and that's what's on my mind today. Thanks for listening!