The Advent of Doom

I know you miss me. It's already the Advent season but I feel like it's Lent. Yeah, yeah I know I'm such a Grinch, but this is how I feel (much to the glee of my evil costumed frenemies). I would appreciate it more if happier people would stop texting me "Kmusta K N?," or sending me generic happy quotes FOR IT JUST ADD UP TO THE PRESSURE OF BEING HAPPY. I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE ALWAYS TELL YOU WHAT YOU SHOULD DO WITH YOUR LIFE, WHEN THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEIR OWN. I would rather drink the tea of empathy than the soda of sympathy, because empathy taste like sympathy, only SWEETER. This is wrong, I don't deserve this.


I'm just glad that there are people like Anne, Andy and Vera who help me get through this mad season. Don't you think it's so unfair why independent people don't get what they want? All I want for Christmas is sshhh, I can't even get it. How will I celebrate Christmas? Here are some of the ways...


1. Sleep all day and ask my mom to wake me up when 2007 ends.

2. Lock myself in my room and listen to full blast rock music while indulging in sinful carbs. This is totally anger and glutonny marathon. I wonder if there will be lust involve. Kidding.

3. Have a Goth party in a cemetery with my weird friends while reading sad poetry and connecting with the dead.

4. Clean the house until became unrecognizable.

5. Check myself in rehab, splurge in retail therapy, or attend a seminar on why some people have useless anxieties like..."Why Can't he love me?"

6. Spent a whole day in a secret laboratory and let my evil genius create a cure for men who are afraid of commitment. Do want to join me Anne?

7. Be a Martha Stewart for a day and try not to mess up the kitchen.

I'm gonna get through this. I must. My momma told me not to dwell in a crisis. I must fight it. I just need some alone time, free from useless text messages.

They say that there are twelve days of Christmas, but I only have seven days to love.