when you wake up at 3 a.m. with your bed so full of regrets and resentments that there’s no room for you anymore so you force yourself to just get up?
Have you ever realized that you’re holding onto your anger for no good reason like it’s your Great Aunt Inez’s fine crystal vase, and if you happen to take just one finger off it then the whole thing might crash to the floor beneath and break into a million tiny little pieces, and you’ll be left standing there naked and vulnerable for the whole world to see?
Have you ever wandered around Old Town wondering why you’re in such a horrible mood and wanting to blame it on PMS but realizing that would be betraying all your feminist principles as well as allowing your first ex-husband to have been right about something. And then you plop down painfully on the sidewalk because you dropped your keys in the gutter and stumbled trying to pick them up with the sudden realization that you now have to embarrassingly specify between your first and your second ex-husbands?
Have you ever become disgusted at your own self-absorbed melodrama and told yourself – For Fuck’s Sake Look at Haiti and Shut the Hell Up- but then still shed a tear when the girl at Los Bagels rolls her eyes at you because she made your bagel for here and you need it to go, and you wonder if you told her the wrong thing to begin with by mistake because you just turned 40 and senility is waiting right there around the corner?
Yeah, me neither.