This is vomit. I'll clean it up later

It's about that time again. That time of year for me to have what we call an "epiphany" and to spread the good news to all of you.

I like to pretend that Julia Roberts has nothing to do with these little life transformations, but she usually does. The woman knows things... she's played a hooker before. Sorta.

I have been particularly depressed recently. Lonely, uninspired, bloated, and other uncomfortable adjectives. I saw it happening, too. I saw the depression looming and I yelled "SUCK IT!" per usual, but this time it just got darker and more pressing. This depression was urgent. It was in a hurry to make me miserable, and I just couldn't fight it off fast enough. I tried things. I tried writing. I tried listening to classical music. I tried reading great plays to hopefully inspire my creativity. One of these very impressive intellectual important interesting activities usually helps me. But not this time. I also tried not doing things too. I tried not to watch tv and tried not to become a lump of pregnant on the couch. I tried not to dwell. I tried not to let it defeat me. But all of these efforts just made me tired, which only intensified the sadness. This was it. This was the end of my spark. My light. The vigor for life that always won out in the end. I was now... an adult.

Then, I was sitting on my couch (about 13 minutes ago to be almost sort of exact) and my first daughter (Ingrid) (Yes the cat) (No! Not the kid in my belly!) (Let me move on and stop making me respond to your hypothetical bewilderments ((not a real word...just looked it up.)) with parentheticals!) jumped on my lap and lay (had to look up lay and lie and their tenses too just now. lots of research goes into making these posts. and lots of unnecessary sidenotes are used too) down and she just looked so happy. She was purring and wagging her tail, and she had been doing the same thing as me all day. Sitting in this tiny apartment, watching Julia Roberts, and eating. Why was she so happy, while I, with all the intelligence and creativity that my giant human brain offers me in order to keep me entertained and satisfied, remained miserable.

I just vomited that paragraph. It's heinous.


My cat is happy because she is simple-minded. We often use that adjective as an insult, but I thinksimple-mindedness is quite a virtue. The simple-minded are not usually distracted by ambition, guilt, jealousy, or the like for any extended period of time. They are trusting and forgiving and do what comes naturally. Eat when they are hungry. Drink when they are thirsty. They feel what they feel without fear of what that feeling means. They don't need Freud or Buddha or Charles Manson to extract meaning from their choices. They just do things and then move on.


So in honor of that fact, I am going to sit here and dwell on what they do and what that means.


I wish I had a flagellum.


I have to go now because my computer is about to die and there is no outlet near me to charge it.


Key notes:

Think less.
Try doing nothing for once. If people are disappointed, it's of no importance to you.
Take care of cats.


-The know-it-all that knows nothing