Bonjour, M'sieu Tristesse! I don't know what it is today, but I feel horribly sad. Yesterday afternoon I did, too, just a little, after I got home from work (and overate all afternoon and evening as a result: three hard-boiled eggs, two peach popsicles, some potato chips, three or four coconut macaroons, quite a few cashews, a dinner of leftover Chinese food, and the top fourth of a quart of Dreyer's 50/50-Bar ice cream which I shoveled into my face straight out of the carton with a soup spoon until my teeth started to freeze); but today it's almost overwhelming.
It was even worse when I was at work and couldn't just curl up in bed with the rest of the ice cream, I had to just sit there and deal with it while answering phones (without snapping "What the hell do YOU want?" when I did it) and preparing for the first board meeting of the school year (which went unusually well).
The thing is, I am only having the physical sensation of sadness: that squeezy feeling in my chest and nose that comes right before I start weeping about something. But I have nothing to weep about. Besides the weepiness itself, I feel pretty good about everything (except those goddamned motherfucking asshole clitcrack Republicans)... I have enough energy to do my work, and I'm getting things done — I even like the outfit I have on, and my hair looks good. But when I sit still, when I'm not working and not eating, that overwhelming sadness just washes over me and leaves me feeling desolate.
Granted, I am completely broke yet again because I just had to have that $170 dress (it's so fucking fabulous, I tried to resist but couldn't, see it here) and so I'm living on my credit card again, which is kind of depressing; and then I'm not losing any weight, and after a week of dieting and exercising daily I actually gained a pound and a half, which was kind of depressing (and after last night's binge, I'm probably all the way back up to 215 by now); and let's not forget the Republicans... I try not to think about them, but there they are, ruining the world.
I had to eat my dinner on the back deck this evening so I didn't have to hear George Dumbass Bush jacking his asinine jaws on television. What I did hear sent me scrambling out of the house as fast as my big ol' feet could carry me, my dinner plate in one hand and my cranapple juice in the other, my phone-book-sized September Vogue tucked under my arm (my only other choice was to throw the television out of the window, and the Grandmother after it): in his opening remarks, Dumbass claimed credit for bringing the recessed economy he'd inherited up to a peak of prosperity.
Perhaps I missed something, but didn't this recession start with Dumbass, and isn't it still lingering?
Maybe he's talking about his own family's economy, which is getting fatter by the minute. I know my prosperity isn't peaking... I haven't had a raise in three years, not even a cost-of-living adjustment, and yet I paid more taxes each year.
Fucking Republican assholes, encouraging personnel outsourcing and raping the environment so the rich can get richer and the poor can go fuck themselves and the rest of us just sit here bewildered by debt; they don't even have a half-assed economic theory like Reagan's "Trickle-Down" to give us something to talk about over coffee... they're just distracting us from it by belaboring hot-button emotional issues in hopes that we won't notice what's going on.
Fucking shitcrumb motherfuckers. No wonder I feel depressed.
Well, I'm not going to let Dumbass and his cuntcrust coterie ruin my day. I'm going to go read Vogue some more and think about how fabulous I'm going to look in my new dress; maybe I'll think up more disgusting compound words while I'm at it. I hope you're feeling better than me, and don't let the assholes get you down!
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