Posts Tagged 'depression'

tear :'(

Tonight Hot Lunch shows up at my work looking depressed all Hyperbole style. He is so visibly depressed as to be a hyperbole himself. Hot Lunch is a walking hyperbole of sadness. Like this.

Apparently while swimming today, he felt a buzzing in his shorts. Not a good buzzing, more like an angry giant bee in his pocket. The giant bee was his smart phone, which he had absent-mindedly worn into the pool. It was FREAKING OUT, vibrating and flashing like it was in communication with advanced aliens whose benevolent message of peace was like poison code, too much for its circuits to handle.

Now he is out a couple hundred dollars, MILLIONS of important contacts and a lot of photos of Joaquin and Diego feeding ducks in the park. He is depressed. He tells me the story in a monotone. He struggles lethargically with the library’s computer catalog. He oozes up the stairs to get the books he wants. When I try to make the best of the situation, he says you’re always looking on the bright side in the same tone you would say, “You chew too loud.” When I rub it in instead (eg: “Cheer up, Phonekiller. I know! Why don’t you spend $150 on yourself? Ohhhh…”) he just says funny then hugs me limply and oozes out the door.

On the way home, I have a voice mail from Cupcake. It is approximately 45 minutes long. She is… depressed. Specifically she needs to go somewhere where no people exist. I think she means so she can’t harm anyone. I try to call her back. No answer. Oh yeah, she’d said she’d be out with an old high school frenemy. She’d sounded depressed about it.

I must be suggestible. Or PMSing. Before I know it I have pulled in at Fred Meyer and find myself buying… MARSHMALLOWS. Oh god, someone stop me. Too late. I have ice cream in my other arm. And I am stroking them both fondly on the way to the register. The marshmallows are so soft in my embrace, like a pudgy lover. I throw them down at the U-scan. I feel dangerous. I get a look from the guy at the next station. Yeah, guy, this big bad bag of marshmallows looks like it’s going into a recipe, doesn’t it? But it’s just going in my face. Hopefully with the ice cream. And beer.

Now I am drinking beer and eating marshmallows. And drawing.

Depresso friends, get thee some fluffy Kraft Jet Puffeds. It helps.

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snapshot: An evening at home, or Focusing on the good things

i’m in pajamas, sitting in Ugly Chair (the comfiest chair that ever gave a girl back problems), watching SNL, cruising the internet, drinking red wine, crying, and wearing the new shoes i bought tonight with Cupcake.

they are bronzish metallic Seychelles flats with pointy toes and bows that make my feet look like lovely presents.

it makes me even happier to know they will look even better when i’m wearing some pants.

we’ve all been there. maybe not THERE there, but thereabouts.

alright. if i am to believe my fruitless Google searching, it never happened. but i remember an interview with Janeane Garofalo a long time ago when she was talking about hitting bottom. none of the typical celebrity talk about arrests, rehab or public embarrassment. just a story about watching tv at home and eating blue corn chips alone in the dark.

imagine: in the light of the tv, Janeane sees a chip shape lying on the floor next to her feet. she picks it up, pops it into her mouth and instantly realizes that she has mistaken a chunk of mud off her shoe for food. this is a moment that forces one to take stock.

i don’t know why, Reader, but this is the funniest story i’ve ever heard. FUNNIEST. STORY. EVER. TOLD. i have been seized by uncontrollable giggles every time this story has sprung to mind… when paying for pizza, in line at the pharmacy, or listening to a loved one’s bad day.

and i’m going to wax cheeseriffic writer-pants and say that i absolutely believe there are some stories that SAVE LIVES. because any time i am sit-alone-in-the-dark depressed, i suddenly feel like Janeane Garofalo eating blue corn chips. and i laugh out loud every time.