Thursday, August 28, 2008

How Daisy Spends Her Days, These Days

Ole Daisy here hasn't had a job in over a month. While she does enjoy waking up every morning with a completely blank slate, she has found that the old saying is true:
idle hands are the devil's whatever... and the devil's whatever has forced Daisy into indulging in her lesser natures, mainly Hypochondria and Astrological Forecasts.

First I start off at my computer to put together my resume. Then I realize that I have some sort of symptom somewhere: numbness, excess cold, does this spot on my arm feel hotter than the rest?, was this mole always this color?, is that my lymph node swollen?, there is a pain in my abdomen....Anyhoo, thanks to Al Gore, bearer of all bad news, I then get on the available interwebs to do some quality symptom research. I discover at least ten conditions I could have, most of them fatal, some only permanently damaging to the central nervous system. The realization that my time on this earth might well be drawing nigh sends me into a righteous blind panic, and since I'm not a religious person with a savior to save me, I do what comes naturally next: astrology.

I start off with a rather bland sight that gives very overarching yet terrifying details about how this month will suck. My panic not assuaged I then head to the Chinese astrology at iVillage where the man who writes the column is prone to saying, "This will not be a good day for you." Finally, when my fretting has reached a spiraling apex of misery and self-recrimination I get mad at the asshole who writes for iVillage and the d-bag that pens astrologyzone. How dare they tell ME how my day is going to suck. "This is bullshit!" I scream at my computer. At this point in my morning I go outside and smoke a cigarette, which is probably the one thing that I do that will guarantee me an illness, and which ironically is the one thing that always calms me down.

What did unemployed hypochondriacs with an anxiety disorder do before the Internet?

I guess they went and got a job.

Or! they stalked the aisles of their local library or Barnes and Noble darting furtive glances between "Health" and "New Age" while trying to look casual, holding a magazine that normal girls read like Cosmo.

Daisy, of course, has never sunk to Option 2 before. Not even when her Internet was out for a week and she discovered a lump on her neck that looked suspiciously like cancer masquerading as a bug bite. Certainly not then. No way.

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