Grace Notes @ Snarkattack

Why fight it? The other day I was explaining to my mother that it’s not usually a good sign if I’m craving sugar or sweet things often. It usually means I’m about to start getting depressed again.

It turns out I might be right. I tried, I really did but I couldn’t make it outdoors today. That’s bad.

Because I’ve run out of emergency medication and I can’t drive without taking at least my anti-depressants. I might start getting all those horrid electric shocks whilst driving and that could be nasty.

I want to care, but I’m so fecking over it. My appearance is awful and I know I should care more but I don’t, kind of like it’s easier to just be disgusting. All I ate today was a lot of apple pie, which was deliberate: at least it’s something I actually like.

It might pass - it’s still in the early stages; the numbness is there and I know the sadness is in the background but it’s far away…then it hits you when you least expect it or when you’re trying hardest to ignore it.

At least I finally finished a book that I have to review and made another poetry submission. I think the submission thing is starting to feel like part of my routine so the deadlines aren’t slipping past like they usually do. It was probably an incredibly stupid thing to do, but heck, I submitted my ‘KGB Dental Plan’ song. A song’s a poem, eh? Maybe they won’t take me seriously but oh well, the world could do with a bit more silly poetry.

Groan. I was sifting through eBay, trying to find some cheap and nasty copies of some nineteenth-century classics that are very well-known but for some reason have stayed out of my way. I also want to replace my copy of Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin that went missing much to my disappointment, especially as it was a hardcover…*pouts*

So if anyone wants to take pity on an equally cheap and nasty depressive young woman with far too many social phobias to actually go out into the real world to get them (it’ll be better once I scrub up), please consider donating the following:

Thackerey, Vanity Fair
Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (though I doubt that I can do it in four hours as a Blogcritics editor claims - I’m a very slow reader)
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
R. L. Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I’m tempted to add Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White but the list is big enough.

Also, I want my copies of Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and Travesties back! Waaaah! God, Travesties isn’t even that easy to get and it’s riotiously funny (for modernist lit lovers like myself…)

I hate lending books to people who’ve no intention of giving them back and I refuse to be like Fat Cow Poet and get my equally fat mummy dearest to call on behalf of her wimpy daughter.

Book gods, please bring my Stoppard plays back to me!