What’s Next – Tuesday July 28

Dear Poor Lucky Me,


I don’t get what I’m supposed to do anymore.  Are we all supposed to plod along- work, eat, get drunk, sleep, work, eat, get drunk, sleep until we retire?  Is retirement the goal or am I missing something?


I guess I feel like I’m seriously not getting the point of having an average life.  I don’t mean average in a bad way, just you know- normal.


Maybe I’m Just Depressed


Dear Maybe,


The problem is that most people think they are supposed to be insanely happy all the time.  They look at their friends and co-workers and think that they are gloriously happy, they read about celebrities and heiresses and think that they are mad with joy.  But that’s just not the case.


I’m pretty sure that a general feeling of dissatisfaction or angst is part of our evolutionary advantage.  My dog seems ridiculously happy all the time, but when was the last time you heard about a dog exploring space or toying with the theory of relativity?  I can’t even get my dog to follow a recipe and cook me dinner for god’s sake.


Without the very normal human feeling that you are missing out on something, you wouldn’t be driven to try new things.


Sometimes I feel like there is hole in me.  I think it’s in my stomach, behind my gut.  Sometimes it feels so big I think I can hear a breeze blowing through it.


I used to try and fill it up with cigarettes and booze and tacos and Red Bull.  Then later I tried exercise, reading, writing, more tacos, soy milk, and Butterfingers.  Nothing worked.  I ended up fat and sleepless but with a lot of muscles from working out.  Then yesterday I decided to think of the hole like an engine.  Right now it’s like the engine in a hand held fan.  It’s going to push me off the couch and around my apartment until I am inspired to start something.  Maybe eventually the motor will get bigger and it will propel me to finish things.


In the meantime, I’m just going to be grateful for the small happinesses in my life.  And try to teach my dog to at least use the remote control so she can watch what she wants on TV without bothering me every two minutes to change the channel.  She has no attention span.


Poor Lucky Me

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