Monday, January 24, 2005

Secret Mission

I heard on the radio this morning that a recent psychology study found January 24 to be the most depressing day of the year, statistically.

Call me crazy, but shouldn't it be illegal to announce that sort of thing on a morning show? This is Elvis on the Z-Morning Zoo! Happy Monday, folks, to all of you up bright and early, sliding your car across inch-thick ice to get to the train station, where it will be six degrees below zero, and the train will be late! Also, today's going to be the most depressing day EVER! Scientists said so, and you can't argue with that! Don't even hope to be happy for the next twenty-four hours! Here's Ryan Cabrera, comin' atcha from Z-100!

You can't argue with science, though. In fact, my demeanor for the past few days has all but confirmed the whole depression formula; for those of you who didn't click the link, that's 1/8W + (D-d) 3/8 x TQ M x Na. Without wallowing, let's just say that Friday afternoon found me willing myself not to cry on public transportation, because there's nothing more pathetic than blubbering to yourself on the subway severely enough to necessitate your wiping a snotty gloved hand across your splotchy face instead of holding onto the bar, sending you careening into the smooching couple who prompted your fit in the first place.

Kai had experienced a similar glumness at the same time on Friday. I can't presume to know what caused it, but if science has seen fit to come up with an equation I'll choose to believe it's not a personal chemical imbalance. We went out for dinner. I ate some veal. Preying on the (lightly breaded) young of a dumber species always makes me feel a little better. Kai's rant about stirrup pants also helped me realize that life could be worse, as well as made me snort three times in public.

Anyway, all the melancholia, plus the foot of precipitation, plus VH1's The Surreal Life becoming the high point of my weekend has made me make a resolution to give my life a sense of purpose. Except it's one of those resolutions that I'm not telling anyone about until I've at least gotten a good chunk of it accomplished, otherwise I'll sound like a douche.

So eat that. I have a secret mission.

2 Comments:

Blogger Melina said...

Being the sheer jackass that I am...I got two DUI's in my lifetime and both of them (year upon years apart) were on Jan 24th. So I was depressed. Not for being caught, but for being so dumb. But that was a ways back.

8:57 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I was never particularly good at algebra or math or what-the-fuck-ever, but I figured out how to counteract the formula. I had a great January 24th, and here's how:
(Mh+B)x(S+Fd)+(Hs x 1,000,000)
Where Mh is Mega Hottie and B is big dick. S represents shopping and Fd is the first date. Hs represents hot sex, which in this case needs to be multiplied by seven trillion, but I don't know how many zeroes to put for a trillion.
Anyway, that's how to beat science: experiment with some genetic material.

10:09 PM  

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