So yesterday was just a day. JUST A TOTAL DAY. I mean, I know Mondays are the worst from March to mid-April at my job. I’m aware of that. But each year they get a little worse, or maybe I’m getting old, or maybe I forget how bad they were the year before, I don’t know. But anyway. Yesterday was just the worst. Like, I wanted to go into the big handicapped bathroom stall, put my feet up so no one knew I was in the stall, and weep quietly into my sweater. For like an hour. Alternately, I wanted to go to the store, buy a mess of pudding, and eat that pudding. Possibly while bathroom-weeping. Either would be good. HOWEVER. I couldn’t even get AWAY to GO to the bathroom. There wasn’t TIME. I had to sneak in a couple minutes for lunch, and only because I was getting lightheaded. And even then, people kept FINDING me.
Just. The. Worst.
And it just keeps on a rampin’ up. I’ve got a little over a month left of the insanity.
So I thought, I’d better have a game plan in place. I mean, things are just going to keep getting worse and worse. WHAT CAN I DO TO HELP MYSELF. And others, of course. Because, as you know, I AM HELPFUL. Maybe others are ALSO having the worst days! Let’s help each other out of the black pit of despair, am I right?
So I totally found this awesome website that’s going to fix EVERYTHING.
This is from something called Gala Darling. Well! Who doesn’t love a good gala? And it’s a “radical self-love project.” NO NOT LIKE THAT DING DONG JOE. And it seems to maybe have something to do with Elle magazine? I don’t know, I’m totally really tired, you guys, and I don’t have any pudding at all. And also maybe it’s British. ANYWAY IT’S VERY PROMISING.
So I’m going to pick some of these out, and start making a list, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need some pick-me-ups.
- Have a romance in your head. Um. I don’t…with whom? I mean, I have my TV boyfriends and I have my secret lovaaaahhhh Dr. Ruffalo. But to tell you the truth don’t you think having all those secret romances is the saddest because at the end of the day you’re still sleeping with Dumbcat and he totally hogs the covers? I don’t know about this.
- Buy a remote control for your camera and dip your toes into the pool of narcissism. There are camera remotes? I guess that’s how people take those photos of themselves that I always wonder about. Huh. Learn something new every day. Wait, taking photos of myself would cheer me up? I really beg to differ. I think taking one look at unruly hair and crazy eyes would start a shame spiral.
- Call a friend and ask if they want to have a slumber party. In my HOUSE? Amongst my ITEMS? Would they TOUCH my items? What if I got sick of them, could I ask them to LEAVE? Would they care if I blogged and tweeted all night? Because, let’s be frank, I’m going to. This doesn’t seem like it would do anything other than stress me out more. I don’t like this AT ALL.
- Do the splits. Or at least try. (Be gentle, though!) Yes. Reminding myself how totally un-bendy I am, and pulling a hamstring – extremely cheerful.
- Drink two litres of soda and stay up until sunrise. OK. Wait, I can’t drink soda, it interacts with one of my medications. I don’t want to stay up all night, I’d be a wreck at work the next day. Why is soda keeping me up all night, anyway? Is there cocaine in the soda? This soda plan seems ill-thought-out. Mostly the soda would make me have to piss like a racehorse, I’m guessing. That’s a LOT of liquid.
- Send a text message to one of the most interesting people you know — maybe someone you don’t know that well, just to say hello. What the hell? Why do I have a stranger’s number in my phone? Who has stranger’s numbers in their phone? I have like, five numbers in my phone. Because I use my phone for Twitter, pretty much. I’m not texting a stranger. They’ll arrest me for stalking, if I do somehow even GET some stranger’s number. COME ON NOW.
- Write a gruellingly personal entry for your blog dissecting every aspect of the situation which has upset you so much. Post it, don’t post it, whatever, just get it out of your system. HA HA HA I AM NINE MONTHS AHEAD OF YOU SLAPPY.
- Write a ridiculous online dating profile & marvel at the people who come out of the woodwork. (“Oh, a threesome with you & your wife in New Jersey? Sign me up!”) Yes, because nothing’s more cheerful that perusing online dating sites, and tricking the denizens therein. NOTHING.
- Wear a fake moustache all day. (Feel like an asshole all night.)
- Think up nicknames for all your friends, then send them each postcards to alert them. Ugh, I’d stab my friends if they did this to me. BFF gets to give me a nickname, because dammit, he’s BFF. NO, I’m not telling you what it is, IT IS PRIVATE. And lately Jim and elaine4queen have given me nicknames. At first, I was like, “Um. I SAID I WOULD STAB” but then I decided, “sometimes, you like someone so much you wouldn’t stab, and it’s actually wonderful, who the hell knew THAT!” so Jim and elaine4queen can totally get away with it. If YOU are sitting there thinking “I want to give Amy a nickname,” odds are good you can’t get away with it. No, I’m totally serious. There was this guy I knew once who thought it was ok to call me “Aim.” ALL THE TIME. I never really liked or trusted him again, once he did that. Then he ended up needing knee surgery. ARE THE TWO RELATED? Well, no, not at all, it was just a funny coincidence, actually.
- Pull a Kid CuDi & announce your retirement from the world of something. Like cooking, or vocal communication. Announce your unretirement whenever you feel like it. OK. I don’t know what a “Kid CuDi” is. What’s a Kid CuDi? And how would you even say that, Q-dee or Could-ee? YES, I know I could look it up. I could also be eating some DELICIOUS DAMN PUDDING. But I’m not doing THAT, now, AM I. So, I’m supposed to announce my retirement from something. I announce my retirement from dishtowels. Is that how that works? Good, I win that.
- Go wig shopping. Yes. Because you can pretend you’ve gone through chemo and need the wig. That’s a smile-generator of an activity, right there.
- Listen to Never Better by P.O.S. and revel in what a great album it is. P.O.S.? This is a band, I’m guessing? Because in my world, P.O.S. means “piece of shit,” and that makes this one a lot funnier and scatological.
- Load up your iPod and go for a walk. I CAN’T AFFORD AN iPOD THANKS A LOT, LIST.
- Flirt with entirely inappropriate people. Do you mean prison inmates? Or married men? Or serial killers? WAY TO BE VAGUE.
- Go to an audition just for the experience. DO NOT DO THIS. You are wasting my time and the people like me’s time. Don’t be a time-waster. WE HAVE JUSTIFIED TO WATCH AND OUR CAR IS GETTING VANDALIZED OUTSIDE WHILE YOU “FIND YOURSELF” ONSTAGE, YOU MORON.
- Tell someone cute, “You’re cute.” I have found, in my experience, cute people don’t like to be told they’re cute. Cute is a derogatory. Makes ’em feel small. Instead, say “I want to ride you like the pony outside the KMart. Do you take quarters?” That should do you juuuuust fine.
- Write a play. YES. Also, make it awful, and submit it to my playwright’s showcase next year. So I have to read it. HAVE TO. PLEASE DO THIS.
- Write the stuff you like about your body ON your body with a magic marker. YES. Look for the ones that say “Sharpie” and be sure to write what you like about your face and other extremities the most.
- Change your ringtone to the sound of one of your friends laughing hysterically. Because nothing scares the people in the bathroom stall next to you than hearing hysterical soulless laughter coming from your stall, am I right?
OK, that was – shit. Useless.
Here are two things that I totally, wholeheartedly, recommend for cheerups. I will be using these as my go-to tax-season cheerups over the next month. SO LOOK OUT INTERWEBS.
First: two words.
You click there, and there’s a live stream coming from the penguin enclosure at the San Diego Zoo. FOR FREE. They’re RUNNING and they’re PLAYING and they’re making LOUD PENGUINY NOISES and you are so close it’s like your FACE is in the penguin’s AREA. It is the best. I got teary-eyed because a little penguin ran by the camera all slapsticky and it could NOT have been cuter, seriously.
(TWO PEOPLE knew I liked penguins enough to tell me about this, two! I love that my penguin obsession is well-documented! If this blog is good for nothing else, I will be remembered for my long-standing and abiding adoration of all things penguiny.)
Sorry, this one’s probably not going to work for you as much, or at least overnight.
But yesterday, when I was having day from hell? TWITTER FIXED IT. Or at least helped me forget it with random funny awesomenesses about bathrooms and kidnappings and secret boyfriends and exciting down-low good news reports and virtual pudding and ALL THE THINGS.
I have to remember, when things are ick (and they ARE ick, and they will CONTINUE to be ick, over the next month) that, a year ago?
There was no penguin cam.
And I did not even KNOW any of the internet people. The internet people were STRANGERS.
Take that, you stupid, stupid list, I don’t need to write on myself with a permanent marker or buy an effing WIG. I ALREADY WIN.