Why is it so hard to be depressed around here once in a while?
Come on– best title ever, right?
One of the things I’ve recently learned about being married: it’s much harder now to be quietly depressed for a day.
Just a day, here and there. It shouldn’t be so difficult.
My emotions are mysterious. An ancient civilization would probably have interpreted them as evidence for like twenty different persnickety gods. I get randomly really happy whenever I’m driving alone, listening to my ipod. Which doesn’t happen a lot, since I live in Manhattan. I get randomly really stressed out and remind myself of one of those middle-aged men who work too hard in the New York Times Health studies. The ones who die of stress-related ailments and are then compared with all the women who don’t die because they handle stress a lot better, naturally.
Sometimes I get horribly depressed, for about a day, and walk around with a blank look, muttering, “Why have you failed at everything?” to myself. This happens pretty much every time Dan from Modern Love rejects another one of my perfect pieces about modern love. It also happens, well, randomly.
(failed at getting the jeans into the drawer. And that is way too close for a good excuse)
It’s always been this way for me, dating back to the moment I discovered that I was doing things that I could fail at. Traceable to when I learned that life is about winning. At everything. And if you don’t win at everything than you’re a big, stupid loser who will probably develop a mid-life obsession with tiny ceramic animals and start collecting them and arranging them on strips of green felt.
I’m kidding. I don’t think that.
Kate on March 2nd 2011 in Uncategorized