Why do some people spell the word "whining" as "whinging"? Is it a typo? Why have I seen it so many times?
Today I was angry. Why, you ask? Why are you angry, Marvelous Narvel? I just asked myself that question, and then I answered myself.
I don't know. I don't know why I'm in a bad mood. I don't know why I feel like punching everyone in the face. Maybe it's because everyone just needs to be punched in the face. It's more likely that I just need to be punched in the face.
I think I am having a mid-life crisis. If this was my mid-life, it would be pathetic, but I am suffering from all of the symptoms of a mid-life crisis. NOTHING INTERESTS ME ANYMORE. IT ANGERS ME. EVERYTHING ANGERS ME. Anger Bear, that's me.
Because I made the above statement (the mid-life crisis one) with almost no justification or knowledge of what the actual symptoms were, I looked them up. Thanks Google! Turns out I actually do suffer from many of the symptoms. I want to change direction. I desire free-flowing movement. I suffer from irritability and anger. I want to run away from everything. I have a desire to get in shape. I excessively look back to my childhood. A sidenote: what are they defining as childhood? Am I still a child? Aren't these supposed to be my "best years"? That sucks, it really does. All it tells me is that all the other years are worse.
WORSE? IS IT POSSIBLE?
Yeah, it probably is. When I have to be financially independent, and people realize that I actually have no real skills in anything except pretending to do work, and I don't have a job because of this, and all I really want to do is be Gabe's intern, and then be Gabe, that will probably be worse. I could never be Gabe. I'm only average (read: bad) at humor, and Gabe is definitely Above Average. Too bad, one career path down the drain.
Maybe I could be an actress, and meet people like Bradley James and make him fall in love with me. But I'm only average (read: really bad) at seduction, and probably love in general, even though I've never tried it. I probably never will try it, because I will be incapable of making anyone love me back. Whoops! Problemo! That's okay though. I think I can resign myself to a fate of admiring people from afar and never marrying anyone and being a whore. What? I didn't actually just say that.
Maybe I could be a writer. Then I could move to England and buy a country manor and write novels and meet Mr. Knightley. This would be Ideal Option Number One. It's a possibility, right? (insert laugh track here)
I just re-read this post. It made no sense and had no overall idea. It was mostly random mutterings. This is the part where I pat myself on the back for being successfully incoherent.
Hey. Hey guys. So remember that thing? Called commenting? We should start that again...that was cool...
