Have woken up to news that Nicholl does not love me. Not even a P.S. this year. Had made terrible mistake of getting hopes up after making BlueCat semi-finals. Am now convinced BlueCat is complete fluke; name was obviously there by mistake.
Considering chucking writing dream & becoming Domestic Goddess instead. Ignoring current state of house as indicator of potential success.
Was just asked what activities are therapeutic for me (in lieu of shopping, which tends toward destructive for both finances and morale). Came up blank. Perhaps could be part of problem.
Have found relaxation solution! Need hot tub. No purpose besides relaxation. Perfect.
Have realized have no money for hot tub & hot tubs are expensive.
1) Sell script.
2) Acquire sugar daddy.
3) Sell soul to devil (probably pays better, money being root of all evil, after all).
4) Find nasty info on celeb/politician & blackmail.
5) Convince parents to buy one instead & mooch unapologetically (hot tub will melt away guilt, surely).
Fear all possible solutions are 1) likely to increase stress, at which point will have to find other means of relaxation in transition period between start of plan and acquisition of hot tub, and 2) unlikely.
Relaxation is too hard & obviously for the birds.
Reconsidering notion to become Domestic Goddess as have just dumped potently colored lunch ALL OVER SELF.
(Then scooped off chair & shirt & back onto plate and then into mouth as it was rather delicious.)
Perhaps Domestic Goddnessness is still in the cards, with application of apron and/or bib at all times.
Have just discovered presence of four black beans and one cherry tomato underneath arse. Make that four smushed black beans and one crushed cherry tomato. Did not eat them.
Friend: “You are a creature of grace and wonder today.” Too true, I know. Just like every day.