This isn’t a claim of my lesbianism, although I love the lesbians of course and people of all sexual persuasions, but this is my admission: I am depressed.
Goldilocks is tired of ransacking people’s (bears) homes by herself and causing general chaos, only to have to run in another direction once a Grizzly comes to eat her.
I know I’m supposed to be funny and witty and brilliant, but right now I feel like locking myself in a closet, never to return. Why can’t someone entertain me while I stuff truffles down my throat and get my feet rubbed? Why isn’t that a part of adult life?
It’s not just that the temperature is not “just right” outside, although the whole ho-hum winter time after the insane holidays certainly doesn’t help.
I also suspect that part of my issue is health-related. Lately I have been hungry like a fiend. I am beginning to think I am a 300lb football player in a miniature body.
I am finding that daily life is so dull, yet when I was with my daughter all the time, every day felt like an adventure. I guess maybe I am just heartbroken over many things, one of which is that I miss my daughter terribly and hate never seeing her with my 5 hour daily commute and schedule.
I feel like the worst mother in the world because I am stressed a lot, and was not this stressed when I worked part-time.
We were supposed to move closer to my job, and now that may not even happen.
Wah wah wah.
Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I’m gonna go eat…
3 boxes of Godiva chocolate. Did it already.
Maybe Goldilocks just needs to find a Bear to tear a house up with.
Or maybe I need to stand outside in my underwear, simply to shock people. Climb a tower and scream, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair. Eat a whole pizza in five minutes. Puke on someone’s shoes. Flash someone at work. Run down Park Avenue in Manhattan yelling, “Godzilla is coming!” Go to a swing club and yell, “Wow, everyone is naked! I’m telling your parents.”
Stand on the Brooklyn Bridge with a sign that says, “Should I jump? Honk if you think yes.”
Or, hold a sign up and stand in front of Port Authority. The sign should say, “Nice Blonde free to loving warm home.”
Do you think anyone would adopt me?
The Irish-Jewish Goldilocks. No porridge, just chocolate.