On my way home on the streetcar this evening I was metnally composing a very sulky blog. A blog about my very long and humbling day. I discovered that I was possibly the dumbest person in a room of 700 and I have to re-learn my shimmys. To make matters worse there was the most irritating couple in the world sitting behind me. I sat there in stunned horror at the graphically violent thoughts I was having, devising gruesome ways to get them to SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I think I understand “Twisty Bread” at last Dave.
So I was having this day, and I’m really over tired, all I can think of to do is to call my best friends, M and Mike. M promises me much love and kindness when I make it home (and he delivered I might add) and reminds me that the world cannot be saved by scientists alone. It will need PR people too to spin it. Then I call Mike and he makes me laugh, long and belly-like and gives me one of the reality checks I’ve come to depend on him for. And my day’s not so gloomy anymore. I don’t need to start attacking random people with an axe, nor do I feel compelled to reflect on my latest theory that PMS is like the entire year of being 16 years old all in one day. When I was in dispair, I contacted my loved ones, came home, made some comofrt food, indulged in a comically large Tootise Pop and reallzed that if days like today are my bad days then this is truly a charmed life.
Today’s sing-a-long song: “Angel” by Massive Attack
HRH
