i am in possibly the shittiest mood i’ve been all year. and that’s saying a lot. i’m writing this here now because, frankly, blogging often makes me laugh at a situation and feel better.
and because doing anything else just feels remarkably pointless. and while i can usually muster enthusiasm for quite pointless things, today is not that day.
urgh. i just deleted a lot of stuff, because why.
and maybe that is the problem. i’m filled with such a sense of apathy it’s becoming stifling. especially with regards to relationships. which is, you know, a problem because checking out this funny little experiment is kind of what i do for a living.
but every new romantic interaction i undertake seems to underline one simple fact: as a woman, to be romantically interesting to menfolk in south africa, you need to be stupid, dysfunctional or a bitch. a real jackpot if you’re all three.
no offence to those who are happily engaged with an other. blame it on the mood i’m in.
i feel like this book i’m writing needs to be written before i lose what remains of my interest in the topic of love, sex and relationships. i just need to find my way over the sharp edges that popped up in the yellow brick road this month, two of my favourite being: ‘be less dorothy black, more dr eve’ (publisher) and ‘you’re not really a writer though?’ (author i quite liked).
i have never felt like i’m doing the wrong thing. you know, the thing that isn’t really your thing to do on the earth? but right about now, my jokes about packing it all up and taking my parrot and myself to a beach to go work at a seaside bar pandok are feeling like a remarkably good plan.
anyway. so that’s all i got. lots of BLERG.
sorry for you. more sorry for me.