You know when life just keeps on lifing, and you’re like GOD DAMN IT LIFE, NOT AGAIN!
Well, I was in that situation last week after I had a dream that made me feel sad and alone. I woke up crying and I had two options:
- Sit with these feelings and process them in a healthy way (via journalling, meditation and crying to ChatGPT).
- Squash those twatty feelings down with coping mechanisms and fun things.
Yay, let’s get twatted!
But which addiction is best to numb the reality of being forced into this existence?
Let’s assess.
Gambling?
Well, I’ve self-excluded myself from online gambling, so that’s a no…
I could however go out to an actual casino and blow my rent money on lucky numbers 2, 4, 5, 7, 10, 12, 22, 23, 28, 29 and 35 (although sometimes 0 comes in, so I should really do that one too).
At least with the casino, there’s a chance I could come out richer than when I went in.
It’s a small chance, but I like my odds. Do I? God knows.
Alcohol?
One of my fave vices for sure. However, it does sometimes make me feel like a badger’s bum hole the next day.
Not ideal when I’ve got a big tennis match tomorrow.
Food?
I do enjoy eating my yearly intake of sugar in one go, but again that doesn’t make me feel super fantastic.
Also, am not sure how much insulin my pancreas has left in her.
Porn?
Recently, the law in the UK changed meaning that you now have to upload ID to verify your age in order to access porn websites.
I could do what that joke account on Instagram said and download a fake ID of my local MP and use that instead, but that seems a bit mean.
Naturally, I’m joking. I’ve never watched porn. I don’t even know what a willy looks like.
*Googles “willy”
Ergh, gross.
Get a new tattoo?
This will fill the void on my arm, but not in my soul.
Sex?
Sounds like effort.
Drugs?
Too expensive.
Unless the number 2, 4, 5, 7, 10, 12, 22, 23, 28, 29, 35 or 0 come in on roulette and I’ve actually got more than 25p on it.
Sod it, I’ll go shopping, better to expense my bank balance than one of my organs.
I’ll do some clothes shopping for stuff that actually fits me now and not “once I’ve lost 200 pounds”.
And I’m booking 12 holibobs, because if I’m going to be sad and lonely, then at least I can do it while looking nice on a white sandy beach.
Amen for credit cards!