The Continuing Wisdom of #TGIT

"I don't know how to do this thing you do, where you make me feel like crap and there are no words coming out of your mouth."

-- Amelia Shepherd, Grey's Anatomy

#TGIT #BeenThere

Kelly Bundy, Kimmy Schmidt, and the "Grey's Anatomy" method of avoidance.

Wow. WordPress readers really love my anxiety, don't they?

More years ago than I care to consider, there was a show called Married with Children that probably wouldn't make it in today's infinitely-more-PC TV landscape. I remember people being offended by it at the time, but it was the late '80s/early '90s and most people didn't give a fuck.

So there was the dumb blonde bimbo daughter, Kelly (Christina Applegate). She's more appealing than her sports-fan father, so she goes on a sports trivia show in his place. But she knows nothing about sports, so he fills her brain with trivia before the show, and for every sports fact she absorbs, a bit of basic life knowledge leaves her brain, rendering her dumbstruck (seen here) when asked to recall everyday knowledge. 

That's where I am right now. For every bit of bullshit my brain has encountered this week, I've lost knowledge and patience. This morning I stood in the shower with conditioner on my hair, and for just a second completely blanked on what the next step was. And I just snapped at my brother because he's being a fucking asshole. (Though I do kind of love it when I finally give up on trying to be polite and just say what I'm thinking.)

Family issues, friend concerns, medication that's ruining my appetite and dehydrating me, not sleeping, and additional things with That Guy, all in those 3 days of spiked blog stats... I'm out. I spent my workday NOT FUCKING WORKING, but rather ensnared in a texting clusterfuck with aforementioned brother.

Also, I know my friends love me and will listen to me, but I'm sick of being the Needy Friend -- they've heard a LOT this week, I sent a goddamn list. (Subject line: "No advice needed; just FYI, everything is fucked.") I've talked to friends, a therapist, my personal journal, and you people. I am tired of thinking and talking about my fucking feelings. I'm not even upset, per se -- I just want to go home and sit there for a week or so and not talk to anyone or think about anything. Maybe just spend the whole week re-watching all of Grey's Anatomy in my pajamas.

So yeah. I'm currently at a Bundy Brain grade 4. I'm gonna pull a reverse Kimmy Schmidt and put my ass into the doomsday bunker.

Busta Shonda Rhimes

Worth revisiting as I wrap up my Shonda Rhimes book review:

"You don't get to call me a whore. You chose Addison. I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what YOU broke."

This construct really evolved by the time it got to Olivia Pope: "I am not a toy you can play with when you're bored or lonely or horny. If you want me, EARN me!

Goddamn right, ladies. Testify.
(BTW, this is not a one-sided notion. I certainly hope I've earned the men I've had relationships with and have never taken them for granted. Ha ha, GRANTed... See what I did there?)

Badass ladies of #TGIT

Note to self: Work on bedroom eyes, ability to say, "Get in there and get naked" and have it WORK.

Can't WAIT to #TGIT!