Upon opening my eyes this morning I realized that what I most wanted was to -
1.) Complain
2.) Mope
3.) Not get out of bed
4.) Agonize over whether I can afford to quit my job/whether I'll get into grad school/ how staggering a mountain of debt I'll incur since the family can't help me pay for it/ how people everywhere have much greater problems than these.
5.) ???
6.) Profit
But it's not my fault, because today is officially The Most Depressing Day of the Year
The British proved it, with science and (I assume) a team of professional miseriologists. If I'd known, I could have planned a party - of despair. With cake - of suffering.
But this won't matter tomorrow, when Obama beams us all up in his magical hope-powered mothership. Right? Right?
To combat fits of weeping and an excess of black bile, I'm recommending this.
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