Bitter is the new Black
Are we over cheerful yet? Can we cut the power of positive thinking and wallow properly in bitter? After all, bitter goes with everything.
Bitter goes with the economy: On the cusp of my 50s, waiting for 25 years of hard work to pay off...we get the biggest recession in decades. Meanhile China is threatening to replace the dollar as world currency with some denomination I can't even pronouce. And my plan for getting out of debt? Waiting for people to die.
Bitter goes with my body: I was looking forward to my 'letting it go' years. Now it looks like I've got to keep fighting, as uber-olders with arms of steel and the discipline of a Viking grace every magazine cover. Demi Moore? Michelle Pfeiffer? Please. Is it too late to convince anyone that my pot belly is actually a pet?
Bitter goes with the weather: Perpetual rain in the northeast is drowning us in muck. Perpetual drought in the deep south is eradicating the soil. Which makes fruit bitter. Perfect.
Bitter goes with my marriage: I'm entering my husband in Olympic complaining. His mascot? Eeyore.
Bitter goes with the holidays. I sang the national anthem at a 4th of July party -- to universal acclaim. My husband's reaction was to ask "Why do you do that?" So I told him the bitter truth: It beats listening to other people sing it.
Okay, my friend in the office says I'm too bitter and I have to end this on a happy note. So let's see. The kids are healthy and away at camp. Harry Potter movie #6 is next week. And oh yeah, I have a friend at the office who cares enough to hate it when I'm bitter, but laughs anyway.
Crap. Now I feel better. Better clashes with everything.
Bitter goes with the economy: On the cusp of my 50s, waiting for 25 years of hard work to pay off...we get the biggest recession in decades. Meanhile China is threatening to replace the dollar as world currency with some denomination I can't even pronouce. And my plan for getting out of debt? Waiting for people to die.
Bitter goes with my body: I was looking forward to my 'letting it go' years. Now it looks like I've got to keep fighting, as uber-olders with arms of steel and the discipline of a Viking grace every magazine cover. Demi Moore? Michelle Pfeiffer? Please. Is it too late to convince anyone that my pot belly is actually a pet?
Bitter goes with the weather: Perpetual rain in the northeast is drowning us in muck. Perpetual drought in the deep south is eradicating the soil. Which makes fruit bitter. Perfect.
Bitter goes with my marriage: I'm entering my husband in Olympic complaining. His mascot? Eeyore.
Bitter goes with the holidays. I sang the national anthem at a 4th of July party -- to universal acclaim. My husband's reaction was to ask "Why do you do that?" So I told him the bitter truth: It beats listening to other people sing it.
Okay, my friend in the office says I'm too bitter and I have to end this on a happy note. So let's see. The kids are healthy and away at camp. Harry Potter movie #6 is next week. And oh yeah, I have a friend at the office who cares enough to hate it when I'm bitter, but laughs anyway.
Crap. Now I feel better. Better clashes with everything.
posted by Whoopla at
1:34 PM
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