Guess whose meds have been stuck in customs for 10 days? If you guessed ‘escaped psych ward patient’, then DING DING DING! That’s me!
i’m losing it! On my walk today I saw multiple restaurants using AI images to advertise their oh so delicious slop and I audibly growled (?). An old lady looked at me in such an alarmed way that it took everything in me to not snap and say ‘well you won’t even be here when the world is getting in fist fights over clean drinking water’.
Seriously, i’m in such a way that I went for a run yesterday. Me. Running. Insert warm up montage:
So in addition to have an oh so delicious depressive episode, I’ve been trying to remember why I am even at grad school. Do I even know what the hell I am doing? Why I am not getting paid? Why is a flight from Belgium to Sweden over 300 USD? Am I even a good person? Why would you put fabric-based chairs in a kitchen? Why am I always so dehydrated? Where am I? What year is it?
This past week was a lot of pondering. And deleting instagram. And going to a cool Pro-Palestine concert! Like 80% of the attendees were over 70, which I feel is pretty punk-rock. Maybe I should have been nicer to the fist fight AI lady.
I really enjoy spending time outside of my apartment (shoebox room with no living space or backyard), but every time I venture outside I spend money. Yesterday I went for a mental health walk and got some fries. They charged me €2.60 for ketchup and mayo so I told the guy I would just get ketchup. The man muttered ‘cheap bitch’ under his breath. Yes sir, I am a cheap bitch, and yes please, I would extra salt on my fries. Yes, I crave validation and kindness from strangers, and yes, I hate myself as much as I hate you.
I spent today cleaning my room and doing laundry because that’s what everyone tells you to do when you’re feeling low. All it did was make me feel like a 1950s housewife plotting to kill her family. Maybe I should lean into it, put an entire ham into some jello or make a tuna fish casserole.
I forgot what it feels like to have to put effort into maintaining friendships. I’m used to just banging on Charlie and Dane’s doors. What do you mean we have to schedule a time to meet up, where we make small talk and try to figure each other out? Sometimes I wish humans were like dogs—can’t we just sniff each other’s butts and know if we vibe or not? Someone come sniff my butt and wrestle me in the park. Let’s wrestle over squeaky toys and bark at leaves.
This week will be better because it has to be. Julian’s visiting, I am going to a giant drinking event, I’m going to the movies, and I’m gonna try and figure my thesis the fuck out.
Also, I’m always craving meat. I feel like an emaciated child longing for a pot roast. Someone buy me a rotisserie chicken or a bacon cheeseburger, STAT.
XO,
The looney bin
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