2003-07-07 - 9:03 p.m.
I don't know how it's happened, but yesterday I fell unexpectedly into The Bell Jar. Luckily these days my depressive episodes are about as long-lasting as a pint of Mom's extra-spicy corn relish; by the time I finish the jar, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Really, though, my life is so dumb fucking lucky it's amazing I don't choke to death on good graces. Here's how I was pulled out of myself today.
While walking between Walgreen's and my favorite place for oyako donburi (they also serve a mean yaki nasu), which is a three block-and-cross-a-major-street stroll, I was asked for money by five separate people. This blog is not the place for a rant about meth addiction, which has become more common in these parts than crack, or for me to elaborate on Reagan's closure of America's facilities to house the mentally ill. What I will say is that I was vividly reminded that my life is goddamn priveliged by the time I'd picked up prescriptions and dinner. I eat every day. I live in a country where women can vote and have relative freedom over their bodies. I was taught to read and write, for fuck's sake!
Instructions to self: pull your head out of your ass and be grateful! Up the dollars you send to Planned Parenthood every month, do some more volunteer work, and quit yer fecking griping!
Comments: Speak your piece!
former / latter