I should feel cheap, but I just feel free...

My current level of depression makes what I went through after New Year's look like a tampon commercial--frolicking through the fields in a summer dress.

"I don't let something like my period get me down!"

Maybe it's because the last time was due to a boy and a criminal.

This time it's just myself.

Huh. It's lonely at the top.

I worked at this law firm for the day. One day jobs as temps suck. It's like the worst first date in the world. You both know you're never going to see each other again--this is it. So, you make the most half-assed conversation instead.

"So where are you from again?"

"Texas."

"That must be interesting."

"It had its moments."

"That's a big state."

"Yeah, it is."

And at the end of it all, it's incredibly awkward.

"Umm, this was fun/ Could you sign my timesheet?"

"Maybe I'll give you a call sometime/ Maybe we'll need you again soon."

"Take care of yourself/ Take care of yourself."

And then you go home and shower just so you can feel clean again.

We'll see how long I can go giving my best impersonation of a living person.

I know, I know. MELODRAMATIC. My mom didn't call me "Ophelia" for nothing. Don't worry. I'm not going to stick my head in the oven like Sylvia Plath. Our oven doesn't work.