Tuesday, April 23, 2013


I'm depressed. Are you depressed, Karen?

Do you ever have one of those days where you're like, "I just fucking give up"?

You know when you're having one of those days, and someone jolly says to you, "Chin up! It will get better"?

And you're all, "Shut your face, Mary Tyler Moore! I don't have time for your fabulous hats and spinning around lampposts."

And before they can respond with something else that's stupid, you run away, glowing with pride over that Mary Tyler Moore line?

I'm having a day like that today.

But don't worry. It'll pass. It always does. I'll do something productive like take all of my nickels to the bank and get cash for them, and being able to go directly to the grocery store afterward and buy some more stupid vegetables does distract me from the constant screaming in my brain. 

In honor of the dark rain cloud that has settled over my head, here's a story about being utterly depressed and hopeless.

The Most Depressing Story in the World

Far out in the middle of the loneliest part of the ocean, there is an island. Nobody of any importance goes there because if anyone in a boat or an airplane or a submarine or a helicopter even gets close, he or she starts to feel depressed and hopeless. Rumor has it that Amelia Earhart once flew over it and suddenly looked around and said, "What am I doing with my life?" and crashed directly into the ocean in despair.

The only thing that grows on this island is a sickly crop of rhubarb, and as everybody knows, rhubarb is the most depressing plant of all time. And before you say, "But rhubarb is delicious," you're thinking of rhubarb that has been sweetened with sugar. Sugar does not grow on this island. Nor are there any honeybees, so don't even think finding a sweetness loophole. There's no honey, no agave nectar, no stevia, and certainly no packets of Equal. Also, rhubarb leaves are poisonous, in case you forgot about that part. Rhubarb is flat out depressing. Far more depressing than beets. Way more depressing than okra. And definitely more depressing than mustard greens.

What kind of beings live on this island, you might be asking, hoping that at least one of them is an adorable frowning puppy? Well, give up your hope for that because the only living creatures on the island are vultures. What do the vultures eat, since vultures are scavengers who feed on dead animals? Not much, I can tell you. Occasionally, the formerly depressed victim of a shipwreck will wash up on the shore and the vultures will have a sad banquet. But, beyond that, all of the vultures are pretty hungry and hopeless. And all of them know that flying to a different island where corpses wash up all the time is simply out of the question. Remember that this island is far, far out into the ocean, and these vultures lack the ambition because they are so depressed and so hungry.

You're probably wondering right now why someone would write about such a sad, depressing place. "Are you just trying to bring us all down, Bethany?" And the answer to that is, quite simply, "Yes." I'm tired of your smiles and cheerful whistling today. Take it down about six notches. What are you, an Olympic ice dancer or something? Your face is giving me diabetes.

Anyway, back to the story.

Now, I said that the only living creatures on the island were vultures, but I did not mention the nonliving creatures who exist there.

The nonliving creatures consist of zombie Amelia Earhart and what I'm eating for lunch today.

"How is that second thing a creature?" you might be asking. It just is. Trust me. The vultures won't even eat it. They just keep looking at it and saying to themselves, "Is that thing even dead? I don't want it if it's not dead." Then, they fly back up to their depressing roosts on top of some of the taller and more stable rhubarb plants.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that my lunch today is terrible. Really, really terrible.

But I suppose right now I should actually get to the storytelling part of the story and stop describing how horrible this crappy island is.

So, here's the story part of the story.

On this very depressing island, where lived several depressed vultures and some very sour, sickly rhubarb and where didn't live zombie Amelia Earhart and what I'm having for lunch today, there was a cure for a terrible disease. But because nobody ever bothered to go to this island because it was so depressing, nobody ever found it.

That's it. That's the ending. Are you depressed yet? No? Fine. If you want to be that way, go right on and continue being happy. You bastards.


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