Anecdotal Evidence · Big Fat Wine Tears

If I Wore a Mood Ring It Would Give Me The Finger

Let’s just get this out of the way. If a mood ring had fingers, would it wear a mood ring? From there it’s just inception. Like standing between two mirrors.

Hey. I’m feeling moody. Maybe it’s a writer thing, but I’m all over the place. I just haven’t been able to write any good fiction in weeks. It all reads like tweets from the guy in your MFA – “The Christmas tree was wrapped in cheap tinsel and glitter, gaudy as a whore. It was dying, slowly. We all were.” #GAAAAAAH

This week alone, I’ve experienced about 80 shades of happiness and 103 hues of sad. Anger has come in, “slow seethe,” “death rattle” and “GAAAAAAAH” and that’s not even half of them. But the funny thing is, I express all my emotions (except “GAAAAAAAH”) like Norman Reedus peering out a window, wine in his used iced coffee cup.

Norman Reedus

I just keep reminding myself that a mood swing that has swung will swing again, swimmingly, and much like Norman Reedus, I will live to ride another day on multiple AMC channels.


*Other shades of anger: “Here’s Johnny!” and “Wrath of Zeus.”

**Other shades of sadness: “It hurts so good” and “Baby hippos.”

***Other shades of happiness: “Soy sauce” and “Library dreams.”

2 thoughts on “If I Wore a Mood Ring It Would Give Me The Finger

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