It’s New Year’s Eve, and in this culture that means going out and getting assface drunk. I won’t be doing that because I hate alcohol and have no friends to go out with anyway, even if I didn’t, but I know some of you will be doing that. Don’t be idiots. If you’re going to get drunk, do it at home. Or, do it at a friend’s house and then stay the night, driving home in the morning. Or, take a cab home from wherever the party is located. In short, don’t get assface drunk, then get behind the wheel of a car. Drunk drivers are worthless sacks of shit — don’t be one.
Now that that public service announcement is over, on to the prompt for today. The last time I cried tears of joy was a couple of months ago. I went to Urgent Care because I felt something was wrong, and didn’t trust myself to not get some kind of professional diagnosis. It turned out nothing was wrong with me, I merely scared myself into thinking something was. When I received the news that all was well, I actually started tearing up, which was strange, because I’m really not a crier. I’ve been to funerals, I’ve watched sad movies, I’ve tripped and fallen down stairs…no tears. I am what I’d like to call an “internalizer.” I don’t show negative outward emotion except in rare circumstances. Happiness I have no problem being very open about, but sadness, anger, depression….I tend to keep that bottled up. Probably not the healthiest thing to do, but it works for me.