I am grateful for not being American right now. It's not that I don't appreciate the feast of Thanksgiving- I can't imagine what the world would be like if the Indians and pilgrims hadn't gotten together and given the world Village People. It's just that even with the turkey and red wine- induced tryptophan coma I'd really struggle to find things to be grateful for. It's like whole year's Shabbats rolled into one. With pie.
But I suppose I should give it a try. To sympatize with my American readers. Which I believe I have about 3.
I'm thankful for not having a boyfriend/fiancé/ husband/ lesbian lover. If I did, I wouldn't have all this pent-up frustration, anger and agony to write about.
I'm thankful for not having a job. If I did, I wouldn't have all this time on my hands to cultivate the aforementioned frustration, anger and agony. And to google fancy words such as cultivate.
I'm thankful for living alone. If I did, there's no way I could pull only eating things that come boxed and delivered to your door (with extra garlic) off as terribly attractive.
I am thankful for not having sex life. If I did (in addition to the point made above), I wouldn't be safe from the once a month "will they won't they"- debate with my reproductive system. At least now I know the reason I'm not getting my period is because I'm a hormonally fucked up mess, and not because there's a chance I'm pregnant.
I'm thankful for living in a cold, dark country where, in order to survive, I get to wear endless layers of jumpers instead of bikinis. If I didn't, there'd be no way to hide the fact that as a result of my comfort eating I probably wouldn't even fit in mine. AND considering my recklessly relaxed relationship with sunscreen I'd probably have stage 3 melanoma by now.
So there. Happy faces all around!
I'm thankful for living alone. If I did, there's no way I could pull only eating things that come boxed and delivered to your door (with extra garlic) off as terribly attractive.
I am thankful for not having sex life. If I did (in addition to the point made above), I wouldn't be safe from the once a month "will they won't they"- debate with my reproductive system. At least now I know the reason I'm not getting my period is because I'm a hormonally fucked up mess, and not because there's a chance I'm pregnant.
I'm thankful for living in a cold, dark country where, in order to survive, I get to wear endless layers of jumpers instead of bikinis. If I didn't, there'd be no way to hide the fact that as a result of my comfort eating I probably wouldn't even fit in mine. AND considering my recklessly relaxed relationship with sunscreen I'd probably have stage 3 melanoma by now.
So there. Happy faces all around!
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