Reading the paper gives me the empty feeling.
I think that’s pretty common, but most people I know get upset when they’re reading it because they come away feeling like the world’s going to shit. Or to hell in a hand basket. It’s always one of those two things.
For them, it’s the beheadings, the fracking, the ebola, Toronto mayor Rob Ford’s bug-eyed crack binges.
I actually love the crack binges.
To me, they’re a sign that the world’s getting more interesting. I wish a NYC mayor would do some crack, that’s fun stuff to read.
I know the world’s in a bad place, but it doesn’t bother me in a deep way. I don’t get grumpy about “the broken system” or “what’s going on with our planet.” I don’t weep for the atrocities like my friend Victoria does. She truly cries, not even pretend. She actually feels the global suffering. Not me. That’s another chip I’m missing.
What stirs up that lingering soul-weight of “something’s depressing me but I forget what” for me is mostly in the Styles section. Also, Sunday Business.
Creative stuff. Parties. Ideas. Hemlines. Internet. Millennials. I’ll never be one and I don’t want to, but I feel like they’re on to something I should buy a piece of.
Just the word “clicks” makes me feel like I need to catch up with something.
Everything I read or glance at adds up to an all-day “shoulda-coulda-woulda-still-should” malaise.
Here are some of the thoughts I’ll have during a typical paper-read.
Kids are using Instagram to become famous and I’m still on FB and I don’t get why you’d want to use Instagram instead but I know just thinking that makes me old.
I should’ve created an app. Are app creators smarter than I am, or did they just figure it all out at the right time? Exactly. It’s probably not too late to create and sell one but am I going to? No, so why not just move on?
Eff Gwyneth Paltrow, I’m not even going to read that because it’ll make me feel bad.
Should we have bought in Brooklyn? No, then I’d have to go to those parties where you bring your own absinthe cocktail recipe or fave pi’s and vintage typewriter.
Queens is the new Brooklyn, which means we should be buying property in Queens, because in 5 years people will be saying, “who knew we should’ve bought in Queens? And I’ll have to say, “I knew. But I didn’t anyway.”
Should I meditate?
Never mind that, why didn’t I think to open a place where people meditate?
Fine, I’ll read about Gwyneth Paltrow. Yeah, just what I thought, eff her and her photogenic 50-something CEO and her collaborations with Stella McCartney and Band of Outsiders. I’d like somebody to make me some perfect basics for my wardrobe, must be nice. My only collaboration is with Custom Cleaners on 6th Avenue. They make my jeans tight and custom-shred my undies.
Look at him, selling marshmallows with faces on them. It’s not the idea, it’s the follow-through. That’s the difference between him and me.
Yes, Ms. Corner Office, of course you get up at 5 am and swim. I wake up at 9 and still feel like crap, and I’d never ever want to put on a bathing cap or change out of a wet swimsuit at some place that smells like pool, so I’ll never be a tycoon like you.
Of course she’s best friends with Lena Dunham and Mindy Kahling. Barf.
Hey, I know her, she was my friend’s camera person! And now she’s going to be the new face of late-night television, because she consistently made web videos every single day for 7 years. Consistency, all about consistency. I should’ve done that. Even though I don’t want to be the face of late-night television.
Twitter lit up over something I didn’t watch. I should’ve watched it and I should be better about using Twitter.
Who are all these people who always look good enough to be snapped “On The Street”?
Damn, all these successful people meditate.
“Nuclear Pact.” Why do those words put me to sleep? I’m a bad person.
Do you get the same panicky feeling of not doing enough in your life when you read the paper?
Or are you one of those people who gets the “world’s going to poo-poo” blues?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.