|The Happy (Dead) Couple|
This is the exact thing that my husband thinks is wrong with me. Or rather, one of the many, many things that are wrong with me. I'm not sappy. I'm too direct. I'm too hard. I'm not like other people. I don't engage in normal, expected behaviors. I ask too many questions. I don't make small talk. Instead, I make people uncomfortable with big talk. (If you are in that last group I suggest you stop reading this right now before it's too late.)
Listen, I have no idea why I was born or what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, but I sincerely doubt that my sole purpose here is to make other people feel good about themselves. If from time to time I can, by offering solace in a time of need or handing out twenty dollar bills to the homeless, I'll jump at the chance. Otherwise I have my hands full trying to make myself feel good about me, and so far I'm not doing such a great job at that.
So if you want to bake an anniversary cake for Ginny and Len, go for it. Stick in 105 candles and have a grand old time. I plan to celebrate quietly, on my own, by trying for like the tenth time to get past page 12 of To The Lighthouse, or Mrs. Dalloway, or in fact any book written by Ms. Woolf. But this time I'll drink a few cans of Red Bull first.