All I felt like doing today was sulking at home, with Fiona Apple and Ricardo Arjona sulking with me in the background, while I figured out whether the solution to life was to ingest a large amount of sleep aids or buy a few beers and have a party. Instead I went to work, took a test I did horribly in, and, in lab, measured enzyme substrate reactions for an hour. Either, I’m having one of those we’ll-just-kick-you-while-your-down type of days, or need to see a shrink. As a guy, I know better than to share my feelings. As an American, I know better than to tell the truth. I wish I had saved yesterday’s post for today, so I could have added a whole new slew of things I’ve thought up to depress me.
"Life! Don't talk to me about life."
I think I called about everybody I know yesterday (yes, I know, except for you) to try to talk to them. Most of them I just gave up on as soon as they answered the phone. Some people were busy, others out of the country, and one was actually too depressed to help me.
"Life," said Marvin dolefully, "loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it."
At any given time, I’m probably much happier than you. Today, I’d say, we’re about even.
"Pardon me for breathing, which I never do anyway so I don't know why I bother to say it, oh God I'm so depressed."
When Stephanie started playing and singing Ms. Guilty Eyes’ Limp on the piano, I immediately thought, that is last thing I expected for her to start doing. A nanosecond later, I though, “No, that is so fucking appropriate I’d like to cry”. I had a really hard time explaining why the fuck I was laughing so hard. Still would.
"Simple. I got very bored and depressed, so I went and plugged myself in to its external computer feed. I talked to the computer at great length and explained my view of the Universe to it," said Marvin."And what happened?" pressed Ford."It committed suicide," said Marvin and stalked off back to the Heart of Gold.
When your feeling self-pity, you can always count on Max to point out how cliché you are, you fucking pathetic loser. I concur. But someday, I will get the man to show some emotion. I’m afraid, it involves killing a cat.
"Here I am, brain the size of a planet and they ask me to take you down to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction? 'Cos I don't."
I keep thinking of just dropping everything and going to New York. I could be janitor with a working knowledge of neural chemistry. That my friends, should be a movie.
"’The first ten million years were the worst,' said Marvin, `and the second ten million, they were the worst too. The third ten million I didn't enjoy at all. After that I went into a bit of a decline.’" - Marvin the Robot (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.)
I think I’ve had a crush on every woman I’ve ever met, except for two: my grandma and my Aunt Luvia. That’s right; my great-grandma is a fox!Okay, this one isn’t Marvin…
Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. "Yes" is the answer.
Thank you Mr. Douglas Adams, for all the fish, and a few laughs too.Alright, this post is for me too. Oh, and I’d appreciate some comments for once. I know you bastards are out there; you suck up my monthly bandwidth!Ja.