I am in a funk.
There’s no better way to say it. A funk. You’d think that with a word so akin to “funky” or “fun” that it would be a good time, but no. It’s pretty boring. For the last few weeks I’ve been holing up in my bedroom and watching various ridiculousness on Netflix. More specifically, I’ve been watching “Malcolm in the Middle” and eating leftover soup. I’m glamorous, what can I say?
I have piles and piles of clothes but nothing “cool”. I haven’t even worn heels in a month. A month! I hate being uncool. Mostly because if I’m uncool it makes me simply a jackass when I pass judgment on others. If I can’t provide commentary on the lives of others, what do I have left? “Malcolm in the Middle”, that’s what. I’ve said no to several invitations over the past few weeks. Just this weekend I was invited to dance in foam (with an enticing assurance that I’d contract an STD*) and I just scoffed at the voicemail and shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth, washing it down with the last of my boxed wine. Funks are black holes. I’ll need to be forcefully dragged out of mine.
So yes, I’m in a slump. I’m sure you’ve noticed by my lack of blogs that I’ve been doing nothing even remotely blog-worthy.
The end of this week will bring two separate “nights out” with different groups of people I haven’t seen in forever. Fingers crossed that I’ll successfully get dressed and show up to those events. And I might need to shave my legs. If I do, you can be sure I’ll observe something that can be spun into an un-funky blog.
Until then, I apologize for my lack of creativity and/or entertaining elements. I’ll try harder. Perhaps I’ll brainstorm some hilarity while snuggling with my cats and re-watching season 1 of “The L Word”. At least those ladies are living their very intermingled lives.