There’s an age for all of us when innocence dies. It’s sad, it’s dark, but it’s a fact.
Disclaimer: I started this post an hour ago until I found the picture above and fell into a deep, dark rabbit hole of sleep deprivation and cyclical insomnia.
I mentioned the phrase “cyclical insomnia” today, only 58% sure it was a real thing. Spoiler: it is real. My particular brand is usually triggered by anxiety, which I suppose can be applied to my current EOTD–that is, the feeling of restlessness that struck around 11 PM and lasted until…I’ll let you know.
We all have that friend.
Let’s be honest–that friend was probably us, at some point (or still).
I’ve decided to try a new tack here, which is to narcissistically post about my own emotions on a daily basis depending which one is currently holding dominance at the time of typing.
What I want to happen: I will develop some insightful or thought-provoking prose centered around a general theme and gain some kind of clarity by the time I hit “Publish.”
What will actually happen: I will get home from work and whine for a few hours to a non-existent group of readers about my current, probably negative, state of mind.
How about that, Sally’s annoying friend? #spoiler?
But seriously, without getting to deep into neo-feminist beliefs and generally beginning a stream of consciousness wine-fueled rant, let’s talk about this. Because Sally makes an excellent point, if it’s not already redundant to say so.
I am no stranger to the undedicated blogger.
Recently I’ve delved into the darkest corners of the Internet–that is, all the abandoned blogs on various platforms that I started with optimism and an inflated view of my own wit and pop culture poignancy.
Since those shall not 404 in vain, I am going to take some of my favorite posts from my last Tumblr, “The World According to Sally Draper,” and repost them here before deleting the short-lived masterpiece.
Related: I really miss Mad Men.