Just a typical run through Central Park on a spring day, passing by this adorable snowman couple holding hands…
And in case you’re in the park later and happen to spot these lovebirds on the 103rd st. transverse, the answer to your question is yes, I am the one who kicked their heads off and stabbed those butcher knives through their torsos.
#spring
Our school math coach, a lovey man who works in our school about once a month (but who I don’t know well at all), sees me in the hall.
Him: “Oh! Hello Miss Emily! How are you doing?”
Why yes, enthusiastic man on street– today IS the day I’d like to sponsor a child in Guatemala! In fact, let’s save ALL THE CHILDREN!!!!***
#daylightsavings #seasonalaffectivedisorder #itsabovefreezing #sunisshining
***Did not actually sponsor child. Can barely afford own life.
Daylight Savings Time is the Universe’s way of teaching us that if we scream and bitch and moan and cry about the winter cold and darkness every single day for 4 months straight, we will eventually get our way.
Or, I don’t know. A broader lesson.
Things you don’t want to hear your psychiatrist say when you tell her you have the flu:
“Wow. You get sick more than anyone I know.”
The last time I had the flu, I was in a relationship, so I stayed at my boyfriend’s apartment the entire time. He took care of me, fixed my meals, brought me meds, etc, and I remember thinking that I would be totally screwed if he wasn’t there to help me, as the flu is so exhausting it can make you downright delusional.
But you know what? Now that I have the flu and I’m all alone, it’s kind of empowering.
There’s a certain dignity in lapping up your lukewarm soup like a cat because you’re too weak to manipulate a spoon.
Or getting lost on your way to the bathroom in your studio apartment.
Or answering your remote control because you think it’s your phone, and then moaning into it when you’re certain your mom has picked up on the other line.
Or eating this yogurt:
I got this, guys.
(Continuation of Doctors Love Me)
After diagnosing me with the flu, doctor leaves room to get prescription pad, comes back to see me sobbing.
Doctor: “Why are you crying?”
Me: “I don’t know. It’s just something that happens.”
Doctor: “It’s just the flu. You thought you had cancer. This is good news!”
Me: “I know” (crying harder).
Doctor: “Ok, go home and get some rest.” (hands me Tamiflu script)
Me: “Can you prescribe anything for the crying?”
Doctor: (checking my chart) “Looks like you’re already taking it.”
Well, fuck.
As a cab driver, your ONE job is to take me to the place I ask to go. You pick me up, I request a location, and then you get me to that place. Literally, that is your ENTIRE job description.
So, sir, the next time you pick me up in the middle of a snowstorm and ask me “Where to?” and I once again answer, “A place where winter doesn’t exist,” don’t just sit there like you’re confused.
Actually DO IT.
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