The Mean Reds

Do you ever have one of those days of just feeling “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
It’s 3pm on my day off, I’ve only been out of bed for 3 hours and am still in my pajamas, and am on my  second Jennifer Lopez movie. 
At the risk of sounding like an adolescent’s live journal entry – here’s what’s up: 
I’m in one of those wretched moods of examining every chip in my personality and totally freaking out about anything and everything.
I haven’t gone running in what feels like forever, I’m feeling freaked out by life, and after weeping for no apparent reason in the tub last night I might need to take a step back on my wine consumption. 
In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Holly Golightly described this feeling as the mean reds. 
“The blues are because you’re getting fat, and maybe it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid, and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?”
Yeah. I get that feeling hard.

Part ennui, part crippling fear the future, and with anxiety disorder probably mostly to blame, I’ve been swept up by the mean reds and am currently in their grip. It’s such a scary uphill battle to align who you are, who you wish you were, and who you hope to be. I know it sounds indulgent, but it’s true.
While these bummer moods are rare, I have yet to find a cure or solution aside from junk food and romantic comedies.
I’m not going to Tiffany’s. That would just make me feel broke and dirty.
I need to figure out what my Tiffany’s is. A place or activity that makes me feel better.
For now I guess I’ll finish The Wedding Planner and order a triple cheese pizza.

Ironically, my neighbor’s orange tabby cat has been on my balcony all day looking just as lost as I am.
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