Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I've got the cure...

We know I've been miserable lately. I own it. It sucks, but I own it. Believe me when I tell you all that I DO realize how painful it must be for you all to come here and read the crap I've been posting lately because of my misery. But alas, my misery is not the issue here.

The issue is THE CURE.

No, not the 80's pop band showcasing the musical stylings of Robert Smith...

THE CURE TO MY MISERY IS MUSICAL THOUGH!! (Well, the short term cure is musical, the long term cure is getting a job that doesn't make me want to hurt people.)


All too content to wallow lately, I've been remiss in self-medicating my misery.

Despite the fact that I haven't had work in an all too painfully long time, I've been adherent to a rather rigid schedule as though I still had to get up on Monday and work a 40 hour week. When my sleep schedule isn't all out of whack, you can bet that my stupid ass has usually been in bed around midnight and up by 9.

I came to realize that something about this is wrong.

Sure I have an interview tomorrow. Sure I'd really like to get the job. Sure I would like to go back to work for a familiar company. Sure I'd like the particular benefits that would come with this job. But the fact is that I'm not going to get it if I go in with the mental state I've been sporting lately. And so I scheduled the interview late in the afternoon. And I took some time for self-medication.

The lizzle turned on the stereo.

The lizzle opened the fridge and found a big part of the cure inside.

The lizzle walked into the bathroom, plugged the drain, and turned on the water.

The lizzle took a bubble bath with a BIG glass of wine.

The lizzle dried off and put on comfy PJs.

The lizzle, now a little buzzed, poured another big glass of wine.

The lizzle turned up the stereo.

The lizzle proceeded to rock out.

The lizzle danced like a spaz in her apartment. (For hours.)

The lizzle remembered just how much she really loves a lame-ass power ballad.

The lizzle remembered she does not know how to dance.

The lizzle remembered that she was alone in her apartment and didn't need to worry about her dance floor skill.

The lizzle sneezed 6 times.

The lizzle blew her nose.

The lizzle threw away the tissue and resumed spaz-like dancing.

The lizzle realized that there is nothing she can do to impact the outcome of her present situation beyond what she has been doing all along, and that being a miserable grump was entirely optional.



Word to your mother.

You know that poster that says "Everything I ever needed to know I learned in kindergarten"? Well, I think back when we were all in kindergarten we all had the right idea. I mean, way back when I was in kindergarten I played out in the dirt, I sang little songs, I jumped on my bed, I finger painted, I giggled at EVERYTHING, I talked endlessly to anyone who was willing to listen... and many who weren't so willing, I didn't worry about tomorrow because I was too busy enjoying today, and I spent my spare time watching fraggle rock. (My cure makes sense when you know this fact because they were the originators of the "Dance your cares away" philosophy.)

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