I left my happy pills at home...and by 'happy pills', I mean the combination of caffeine pills and mood elevating supplements that I take every morning in order to crawl out of that dark oubliette of sadness, and appear to be a functioning member of society. Well, okay, it's less a dark oubliette of sadness these days, and more of an oubliette of disassociation or complete 'wtf, mate?'. Nonetheless, my daily regimen allows me to fake being a pleasant individual. It helps the writing process by giving me overblown delusions of grandeur, wherein I believe that I can actually write, and that I'm goddamn hilarious. Also, and this is helpful for everyone, it cools the ever burning inferno of rage clawing my insides, begging to be released upon whatever gaggle of idiots enrages it the most.
So, yeah...like I said, I left my 'happy pills' at home. I really, genuinely want to do a Music Monday post, but sweet, funny, music lovin' punk rock Whiskey is unavailable right now...and all I can offer you is sarcastic, faux leather pencil skirt wearing, Louboutin in your face for looking at her wrong Whiskey. I would seriously love to tell you all about the new Masked Intruder album, and how excited I was that Officer Bradford followed me on Twitter after I tweeted something about it...but, alas, I am unable to BECAUSE I CAN'T FUNCTION AT ALL. My ability to 'can', cannot.
I feel like I have set up permanent residence in Doesnotgiveafuckastan, where I have a deep, dark little cave all to myself. Anyone who ventures too deep inside my cave is met with velociraptor type screaming, and empty whiskey bottles chunked at their heads. Most days I can venture out of my cave. I go out, I do activities with friends, I oogle Hottie McHotPants...and I look like a fully functioning human being. That's because I have my goddamn happy pills!