Thursday, 4 November 2010

What to do with sad miserable gits

Grit has tipped into a stink of sadlonelymiserableselfpityingbastarddom.

Ignore her. Soon I will go and give her a slap. And a lecture on moral fibre, stiff upper lips, and why the price of breakfast cereal does not matter, stop moaning about it. OK, relief would be through tender words and a hug, but forget that. It's not on the agenda. Instead, I have ten top ways to cheer up. (Probably works for both sexes):

1. Put on lip gloss and eye liner.
Princess Di did this and it worked for her. Eye liner creates an air of vulnerability and people will like you. They will not sit down next to you on the ferry to Hong Kong and, after two minutes, glance at you then get up and move. What is that about? Do I smell of wee? Try having three babies sit on your bladder for eight months before they're ripped out your womb leaving you for dead. See if you like it. Bastards.

2. Fall over.
This means people will rush to your aid and you can feel someone - anyone - actually cares. Like buggery. I mean, how many times do I have to fall over before I am rescued? I have tried limping, staggering, clinging onto rope. Eye spying the handsome Spanish sailor offloading the old women off the ship, I thought aye aye, now's my chance to swoon into a manly grasp. That would keep me going for a few weeks. What do I get? I swear when it was my turn on that gangplank, he gave me a shove.

3. Smile.
Then you can pretend people like you when they smile back. But you have to get it right. I hear there is more to this smiling lark than baring your teeth at strangers. Do that and you look like an escapee from a secure psychiatric unit. I don't know. I have not tried this one yet.

4. Say nice things.
To your family, you might try, You look lovely today. That haircut you gave yourself this morning with the craft scissors suits you. Are you going to wear knickers with that outfit? Then your family members will respond warmly and kindly and not tell you that they hate you before flouncing off. To your partner, you could try saying Hello. Do not be put off when they narrow their eyes suspiciously at you like you're up to something.

5. Breathe.
This is everywhere in Self-help for Self-pitying Bastards. Apparently, breathing is very good for you and reduces stress and tension. That would be the stress and tension created when you push a pillow onto your face to scream into it because then for sure you cannot breathe. So I'm told.

6. Wear different clothes.
Wear different clothes, and inhabit another identity. This is a good theory. It allows you to step outside yourself, metaphorically speaking, and gain perspective that your miserable bastard side looks like a hobo. Especially when they wear those black trousers and that grey top, once white; the one with a yellow curry sauce stain over the left bosom where the sad side forgot how to eat and dribbled dinner like a two-year old. Scrap this one. It doesn't work. I haven't got any other clothes and I'm not shopping with three kids hanging off my arms whining about their feet.

7. Create a happy file.
I have got one of those. It is called a blog.

8. Return to nature.
Yes, there is a hollow once filled with lovely walks through the rainsoaked mudbashed fields of England. I bet you have skeleton trees and seductive smell of wet earth. Oh shut up, Grit. These days I can kill mosquitoes with my bare hands, point at butterflies and kick frogs. (That last one was by accident.)

9. Give help.
This is good. If you want help, you must give help first. I tried to help Squirrel with long multiplication. There was no need for all that poutylippery and huffypuffing exiting the room with I am never doing maths with you ever ever again. I did not know I was supposed to put in a nought. Who tells you these things?

10. Be grateful.
Think of things for which you are grateful, aka, roofoverhead. Then think of sad people who are homeless, starving, more miserable, lonelier, dead. Slap oneself. Take excellent therapy by reading round other happy files. Or go to zooborns.

There. Grit feels better already.


sharon said...

Ain't life grand!!! Come and visit us - apparently we have at least eight 20-somethings descending on us next weekend for the annual Blues Festival. They will be in tents in the garden drinking enormous quantities of beer and cooking on the BBQ. Due to the early declaration of Fire Season there will be NO campfires.

Finally got act together and went to Post Office this morning. Start checking the mail box in a few days time ;-)

Sugarplum Kawaii said...

Oh this list makes superb reading. Remember though in point 1...most lip-gloss is made with Whale fat. Nice.

Big mamma frog said...

Personally I think no.1 should be "drink copious amounts of alcohol"
and no.2 should be "if no.1 hasn't worked then drink some more."

It wont cure sadgititis, but after 1 and 2 at least you'll forget about 3-10, and the after-effects will put everything else into proportion.

Besides, the inside of a beer can is shiny and shiny things always cheer me up.

Kelly said...

How ironic that I should read this post this morning after I had decided to stop whacking my head on the steering wheel in the UVic library parking lot so that I could pluck my eyebrows, a task for which I now need strong natural light, being nearly blind with age, and put on mascara, something I only do when extreeeeemely depressed. I then put concealer all over the red welts on my nose and forehead, and stumbled into the library coffee shop so that I could sit amongst the bubbly coeds and feel even older. Yes, we all needs lots of good cheering-up activities. In addition to these, I sometimes try a variation on your nature walk--I skip and frolic in the heavy fog and piercing cold rain of the B.C. coast in winter (who am I kidding, spring, summer, fall...). This is especially fun to do when the angry tourists who were brought here by the pictures of our three days of sunshine per year are walking the seawall. Then you have the added physical challenge of jumping to avoid the large rocks they have collected on the beach to throw at you. But my personal favorite is spending quality time with my four dear sons, who compete to entertain me with their prowess in belching, farting and naked dancing.

ladybirdcook said...

The comments on this most excellent post have given me confidence that my life is real and I am not suffering from surreal delusions. Life sucks but at least we're sane enough to notice....that has to count for something?

p.s.I'm with big mama frog, there's nothing that a pint of gin in the morning can't solve.
Then get your make up, push up bra and pee-masking perfume on and hit town.

Angela said...

I always like to come here. You find the right words, Grit!

Grit said...

thank you for your comments, people!