Smile Like You Mean It

Published 5.7.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

This morning I am blasting The Killers with my door shut. Being suitably depressed and wishing I had brought that last bottle of IBC Root Beer for breakfast so I could have convinced everyone I was being very bad, again.

But I didn't. Instead, I am being properly depressed and morbid regarding my station in life. Except everyone feels the need to inquire regarding my lack of cheerfulness and instructs me to turn the corners of my mouth upwards.

Was I ever happy that they feel the need to compare my behavior to something like that?

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

Smile Like You Mean It

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