I feel doomed today.
And I’m one of those people who prefers her bad news (either anticipated or already-delivered) over an entire bottle of sparkling shiraz, so that I can throw up all over the couch and pass out on the floor and wake up brimming with self-hatred and self-pitying “tragedy”. So that’s what I may just have to do (although maybe this time, without the throwing up all over the couch).
Sometimes I prefer not to read bad news at all, whatsoever; I’ll put myself in a position where it is to be delivered and then when it IS delivered I just shake my head at it and pretend it’s not there sitting in my inbox, in my voicemail, in my unread text messages, awaiting me at some sort of social gathering like, oh, I dunno… coffee somewhere on campus at a certain popular hipster cafe?
Yes. I do feel doomed today. I feel doomed because I’ve placed myself in a position that can only make me feel doomed before I rip off the band-aid. I don’t want to. Instead I walked to work today, traipsing oh-so-carefully over thickly-lain sheets of slick ice, only slipping a couple of times, while listening to ambitiously optomistic songs that I didn’t choose – they came up on random – such as: “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen and “Something in the Air” by Thunderclap Newman.
Tonight — what I will do is just sit down, put a record on, stare out the window, crack a bottle, open my laptop and…