I'm talking about the pity party for one I've been at for the past few days. There are a million reasons why I thought I should be there: I caught the flu, winter in NY, the recession, lack of direction in my career, uncertainty about whether I wanted to stay in NY, etc, etc, etc, ad nauseum.
I was celebrating BY MYSELF with my Debbie Downer tiara firmly placed on my crown of uncombed hair, slow-dancing to a loop of Celine Dion's "All BY MYSELF" in semi-darkness. Mood lighting provided by the glow of the television set to VH1's Rock of Love. Drinks provided by I-don't-know-what-flavor-green-is-but-I-think-Vick's-calls-it-original-flavored Nyquil.
Mid-dance, my ego flips on the light switch. Goddamn egos! They ruin everything! I was just getting into the chorus again (for the 6th time). The bossy, opinionated loudmouth that she is told me to get out of my stinky sick clothes and take a freaking shower. So here I am at work today, clean and feeling fresh and i think i'm looking kinda hot in an casual workwear way.
Big shout out to my overblown know-it-all newyawker ego who can 3 finger snap me back to reality. I thank thee for not letting thyself wallow and despair as queen of Loserdom!
