I’m self-diagnosing myself with Depression. I do this alot (self-diagnose), and I think I’m pretty accurate most of the time. I should have been a Healthcare Professional. You know, like the time I swore on Chunk’s dimple that I had a tumor in my thigh…when I went to the doctor, he told me it even had it’s own blood supply! I knew I was right! …except he said it was an ingrown hair. What dumbass gave him his license to practice medicine?

Then there was the time (like every. single. month of my LIFE) when I thought my uterus was falling out and I MUST LIE DOWN AND DO NOTHING ALL DAY or I will lose all opportunity to procreate. My gyno says I just have really bad PMS, but I just pretend to listen to her…afterall, she gave my mom a hysterectomy, and I really want to keep my baby-housing parts, so, you know how it goes…nod your head in agreement and turn your thoughts to more intelligent thoughts like, “I wonder if I get up off this examination table and walk away from this blockhead right now, if my uterus will just fall right out onto the floor?” (I just said Blockhead…what, do I think I’m in a Charles Shulz “Peanuts” strip?)

Ok, so with that last paragraph, I just reminded myself about how the last time I was in the Dr.’s office, I was sitting in the little room for, like, EVER…and while I was waiting I was staring blankly at the floor contemplating my death…and a BUG crawled across the floor. Now, I’m no expert on bugs (only diagnoses) but it had a lot of legs and it was big and black and slimy. All I’m saying is this is a reputable office! It’s not like I was at the Free Clinic (which by the way, was my home healthcare for quite some time, so I’m not knockin’ it)! Seriously, just thinking about the places that bug could crawl made me want to puke in the Sharps Biohazard container. Anyway…I’ve gotten off-track. You shouldn’t be surprised.

Yeah, so I’m depressed. And I don’t know if it’s the rain or Chunk or the fact that I have no money or no man in my life to kill the spiders that are bound to surface. OR-RR! A man to run through the rain with me…that would be fun! It WOULD! Right, Guys? Right?! But whatever, I’m so right this time. Depression.

I tried to collect my feelings and compile them into something creative…you know, as an outlet for my darkened soul? This is what I’ve come up with:

I realize it looks like I have dredlocks, but with all this rain, my hair likes to get wild. This only adds to my pain. I almost shaved my head last night, but I fell asleep at 7:30, so there went that plan. See? Only depressed people go to bed at 7:30.

*I know I used my last name, but I’m going to be in a psychiatric ward soon anyway, so you need to know my full name so that you can come visit me. I won’t let any of my new friends in there fling boogers at you, so don’t worry.

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