Sunday, February 2, 2014

In which I offer yet more life advice for the barely functional

I've said it before and I'll say it again: February is the absolute worst.

I can't think of any clever and titillating introductions to that fact because for the past week it's been like the electricity inside my body has been cut off and my tongue is weighing heavy in my mouth and everything I do or say is dull and monotonous and uninspired. It's been winter for entirely too long and the smog that hangs over the city is beginning to penetrate my soul; I am a swirling vortex in a thousand shades of grey: I will swallow you whole.

I also feel obligated to state that this has nothing to do with the presence of Valentine's day- I mean, I hate V-day in a creeping, passive kind of way- but that's more of an effect of the Februaries, not a cause of it. Sort of a, I DON'T WANT TO CELEBRATE OUR LOVE RIGHT NOW, I CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING type situation.  I am totally down to eat chocolates from a heart-shaped box, should you feel inclined to give me one.

I also also feel obligated to state that I am perfectly okay right now. I'm sitting in bed making last-minute casting notes and eating my weight in babybel cheese (WHICH YOU CAN BUY IN BULK FROM COSTCO, DID YOU KNOW) and debating whether or not Scott Kardashian is, in fact, a sociopath (my vote is yes.) When I no longer want to consume dairy and limit my theater expertise to quoting 'Night, Mother, then we worry. Right now, it's just February.

Because I am overly fascinated with my own opinions and absolutely in the "People Who Suck At Life" category again, I have decided that now is a great time to offer my fellow barely functioning humans some life advice.

But first, here is a classic piece of visual inspiration:

I find the fact that she is wearing pearls to be particularly impressive. Way to keep it classy, Brit.

Let us all learn from dear Britney's example. 
Now, depending on how closely you follow my online presence, you may have noticed I haven't mentioned bathing in my own salty tears for a while. Actually, even if you do follow my online presence closely, you still may not have noticed this- I post a crap ton of stuff online. Especially facebook statuses. I have no doubt this will contribute to my divorce/firing of the future. 
But I digress. 
About a year ago I talked about crying all the time, all the time, because it was a novel and confusing experience. Because I no longer talk about it, we can deduce that this is something I no longer do. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH JUST KIDDING.
(also the first time I typed that it came out as JAJAJAJAJA, because sometimes I like to agree with myself in German, enthusiastically.)

No, I totally still cry. All. The damn. Time. 
Again, there is absolutely nothing wrong with crying. Apparently it's one of the body's way of ridding itself of toxins- though that may not be true, given my therapist said it when she was trying to persuade me into tears. However, when you are pretending to be a normal grown-up and you continuously burst out sobbing, people find that fairly off-putting and usually want to talk about your feelings for a long period of time. Nothing wrong with that either- but this is frequently a thrice daily occurrence for me, and ain't nobody got time for that.

So without further ado, I give you this Lissa approved guide to spontaneous weeping like a grown up:

Step 1: Never let them see you cry.

Actually, this is probably the only step. And I may want to rename it to Cry on the Sly, because alliteration. 

Only Step: Cry on the Sly.

Better.
If you know you have a chunk of free alone time coming up, try and get all your crying done then. Like in the shower. Or the car, if you can still navigate the road safely while being blinded by your own bodily fluids. So maybe not the car. The idea here is that if you get it out of your system while you're in control of the setting, you may be less inclined to an outburst later on. 

Alternatively, you could just reduce yourself to a constant state of dehydration, so that if you do start crying there are no tears and you're just gasping like a sad fish. That should confuse people to the point where they leave you alone. 

My latest and most effective tactic if you think you are going to cry is to abruptly walk away. This is a very adaptable technique- if you are at work, just casually pretend like you need a bathroom break. Immediately. That may last twenty minutes. Okay, your coworkers will probably suspect you may be suffering from some sort of intestinal issue, but better that than know you have feelings, amiright?

This is also perfectly employable within the confines of your own home- the only issue is that you are usually expected to return to the situation you are walking away from, so you should come up with a good excuse. I once walked away mid-conversation to return ten minutes later claiming I remembered I had to turn off a light upstairs. This was obviously not a good cover, because it does not take that long to walk up and down stairs, and because everyone who knows me knows I prefer all the lights in the house be on all the time always.  I am probably single-handedly responsible for global warming. Sorry.
So...don't be like me in that aspect, maybe. Pretend you had some dishes to wash, or something. Maybe some jelly you have to take off the stove. 

It's surprisingly easy to do this when you are out of doors- oh, you just brought a me a thoughtful gift and I am responding emotionally? Excuse me while I walk down the street a bit to look at...something. I will be back. Probably. 

The most difficult situation in which to pull this move off successfully is if you are mid-way through a date, and you've just realized you're sick of pretending to laugh at their jokes and you're really tired and OH CRAP THE TEARS, THEY ARE A-COMIN'. The key to a smooth execution is to pretend like you're just too damn cool to stick around any longer, then you casually put your jacket on and insist that you will be walking home, in the freezing rain, like the exotic and mysterious being you are. Boom. Cryin' on the sly. 

And there you have it, internet. A useful, one-step guide to hiding your feelings from everyone you interact with. You are welcome.