No one thinks you’re funny when you’re depressed.
Just because I believe in something doesn’t mean I believe that it’s good.
I’m just not so sure about a God who is just as generous with inexplicable death as he is with parking spots.
I mean, what exactly is the point in praying for her food when her dad died six days before she was born from something the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the state explained by saying “I don’t know why this happened.”
“Running in the morning is a good way to ensure that your day doesn’t get any worse.” And even though I saw it on Twitter, I hope there is some scientific truth to this meme as I set my alarm for 5 AM and set my running shoes by the door.
I don’t know how to cook for one. I make too much of everything and end up with leftovers that I won’t eat.
So… Apparently, “In the same way that everyone else does” is not the right thing to say when the doctor asks if you ever think about hurting yourself.
If this year were a date, we would have faked an emergency and left by now.
“You’re expecting that cry-eat-sleep stage.”
“It happens. It is normal with newborns. And how are you doing?”
“…I’m sorry. I thought we were talking about me.”
Depression and Cheese is a recipe I created around the time of my quarter life crisis. It is where you take a perfectly good macaroni and cheese recipe and substitute most of the ingredients with ones you already have and leave out the ones you’re too poor or lazy to buy. It tastes exactly what you think it tastes like. It tastes exactly how you feel.