But I don’t particularly have a reason this time. None. I can’t even come up with one.
This made me think of my friend Richard. He has always told me that I’m an nihilist.
Which I always said to myself, “that’s not true.”
But the more I think about it…
This is me currently. About everything:
I mean, with climate change and Donald Trump on twitter pissing off everyone who has nuclear bombs, who knows what the future will hold.
So what is the point of doing anything?
I can’t be the only one who feels like this.
As I was mindlessly surfing the interwebz yesterday I discovered that nothing really captures the essence of what I’m feeling more than gifs of Bethenny from The Real Housewives of NYC.
Me, any time someone talks about retirement:
Death is my retirement plan.
Are you going to get married?
Well, I guess if famine strikes, I won’t have to worry about paying the caterers.
When someone wants to talk about their kids:
Getting motivated to do things like laundry and cleaning:
The meteor is coming.
Anytime someone is giving me unsolicited advice or telling me what to do:
Thanks.
No, really. Thanks.
Dude.
I don’t want anyone to think that I’m unhappy. I am pretty content with my life. I’m just having an existential crisis. Is this an existential crisis?
Do I want to google what an existential crisis looks like?
Here’s 144. Macaroni-Beef Topsy Turvy.
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I love you, and you're in good company....
How can a 1972 dinner recipe be bland?!? I was there for 1972 and had dinner every night, and it was nothing if not over-salted by modern standards. First you put salt in the recipe, and then you added the Worcestershire sauce and some MSG, and then you finished it off Lawry's at the table.
Nearly every recipe I have from back then we now make with about half the salt. Our taste buds must have been fried back in the day.
You said it!
I'm sorry the casserole was bland -- it looks like it could have potential, though. As per usual, your recreation of the photograph is spot on! :)
Amen.
I feel ya!