As I climbed the stairs to nowhere this morning, I questioned myself on why I haven't indulged in my therapeutic blogging ritual for several weeks. After retreating to the recesses of my mind and digging very deep into my id,(this took about 5 seconds) I learned - I'm too damn happy.
Something is seriously wrong. I think I have been lobotomized. That may not be a word, but as we all know, it's my blog and if I want to butcher the English language into a bloody nubbin - I can.
So I figure all this happiness has to come from somewhere. I guess the whole not dating thing has kept me from any kind of tortuous heart breaking. Oh wait, I can't get a broken heart, because I actually don't have possession of such an organ any longer. Yeah, funny story. I told the last guy who stole it, he could just keep it. I wasn't going to be needing it anymore. And that worked out okay, because I kept all the jewelry. In retrospect I think I should have held out for a car too.
So the next time you see me, perhaps you should try to make me miserable so I can actually get back to my self-deprecating state of mind (which, by the way, is a very comfortable place for me to be.) I don't know how to act with all this happiness bottled up inside me.
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