Wednesday, January 15, 2020

My Inner Virginia Woolf

It's hard to fathom just how miserable the average American is but based on my own life it must be damn miserable, and I've got it good! I'm only ten pounds overweight and can hardly stand my own body, and so many people are so much fatter they must really hate looking in the mirror or getting naked or simply zipping up a pair of jeans and seeing that muffin top, I shudder to think about it. Plus I'm not homeless or a drug addict or an alcoholic or the parent of a child with cancer or the parent of a homeless child or one who shot up a school and is in prison for life and I have to go visit every week and how depressing would that be? I am not suffering from any horrific chronic illness, just all the ones that everyone has at my age, which is a boatload but nothing I can't handle, although the constipation-causing hemorrhoids can get quite annoying.

Still, I am often very sad and angry at events outside my own sphere of influence, silly as that is. This is surely true for all of us over a certain age, since young people are out having a ball, not yet suffering from all those conditions that will get them one day. They are still getting high, staying up late, eating Chinese food at 10 pm without fear of debilitating heartburn waking them up at two in the morning, especially since they're partying til dawn anyway. And most of them don't have pets which are a huge source of aggravation, let's be honest: Dogs with cancer, cats with fleas. A 12-year-old cat, while fluffy and silky and at times adorable, is a real pain in the ass, what with the ticks and the flea medication and the steady arrival of murdered little animals at your back door and the never-ending cleaning of the litter box. Ultimately they die, like everything, and then you feel like crap for weeks or even months or even years if you are really nuts like my friend Mary who stayed in bed for an entire summer when Kitter died.

Amy's drawn-on eyebrows will not win her any votes.
It snowed overnight, much more than was predicted by the weather people who seem to be getting it wrong more often lately so I neglected to park my car in the garage and will have to clean it off to go to the store to get, guess what, cat food. I didn't notice the snow because I was trying to watch last night's Democratic debate but I just couldn't do it. Life is too damn short. So I switched to "Everybody Loves Raymond" for a few laughs before sleep and ended up having a fun bunch of dreams. God knows what I would have dreamt about had I stayed with Bernie and Joe and the rest of that dreary bunch. Amy Klobuchar's makeup job alone -- how about those eyebrows?-- would have given me nightmares for sure.


1 comment:

  1. About gaining weight, yes my pants are tighter, my bra is sticking in my flabby gut and I hate it. I've decided after my cat, she will be 13 in April(she's doing her best to replace my dog Max) no more pets, I'm sick of the litter box. I gave up on the debate, since not watching the previous one but, of course I got stuck into the PBS frontline 2 part show about how divided this country is and of course they made Obama an angel and Trump the devil.

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