I hold my hands up. I’m pissed off. No majorly specific rationale behind my feeling of new found humpness, just several shitty things making me feel like I want to stay in bed.
It’s fine. I’m not about to take on a bus or anything. I’m just cheesed off. Maybe one of these days I’ll go into why. Probs not tho, cos who wants to be reading that sad noise.
I have, however, spent a few days doing that thing when you wallow. Yeah. Dumbest thing to do if you’re blue. But I have and it’s made me realise that in life, when people have the hump we do the stupidest things and never learn that they never make us feel better.
You know, like.
Eat McDonald’s. Because at the time, you’re all ‘I’m too pissed off to cook and I want some comfort food’, but then you’re standing in the queue ordering up a side order of deep fried cheese to go with your meal and you realise you feel more shit than you did when you walked in. Have a salad and go to bed without wondering by how many miles you exceeded your monthly recommended salt intake. And if you’ll have a heart attack in the night. And how shit it would be to die now when you’re so down in the dumps. It really escalates.
Tell you what else you shouldn’t do. Go on Facebook. It does a number of things. Primarily leads you to look at all the filtered pictures of people you don’t care about and what a smashing Saturday night out they are having, whilst you’re knee deep in your fourth boxset, whinging that the ‘large fries isn’t as large as it used to be’. Secondly, it gives you scope to look back at photos of yourself from 8 years ago when you were slim, and on holiday and beaming. Delete the app until you cheer da fuq up.
In fact, throw your phone away in general. Because the phone means talking to people and responding to messages and your far too busy being shitty to ever answer the 65 new WhatsApp’s you seem to obtain on an hourly basis. My advice. That beautiful ‘turn off notifications’ option. Silence really is bloody golden.
Another good one to avoid. TV shows that involve emotion evoking closing scenes. Normal people can go ‘aw’. People that are in the state of ‘having the hump’ will scream cry into a pillow at one well chosen score to one well timed kiss. Trust. It’s grim.
I’d also say steer clear of Adele. Or Celine Dion. Or Whitney Houston. One bad lyric from them whining bitches and next thing you know you’ve turned your car into a morgue of misery where you flit between Angry Power Goddess to Hot Fucking Mess in the change of a traffic light.
Tell you what else isn’t great to do at the minute either. Read the news. Because one minute your watching the weather and the next minute you realise it’s 2016 and everyone you grew up loving and idolising in the world of show business has dropped dead at an untimely age. Mood – gone.
Step back from people that irritate you at the best of times. Because when you’re in ‘hump’ mode you literally stop giving a tiny rat’s arse about what they have to say and you’ll probably tell them. Like, straight to their face. And that is just hella awkward.
Finally, I would steer clear of the booze. At the best of times having a little tipple might make you dance, maybe become funnier, perhaps fall over and flash your arse on the Central Line. When one has the hump, one turns into one of two things. Angry Gin Man who wants to throw stuff at pigeons because the mood weren’t great when you started boozing but now you’re a plain arsehole. Or you become Crying Uber Girl who decides to spend the 40 minute journey home looking out a rain soaked window like you’re in a bad 90’s music video slowly weeping at your woes.
Probably whilst listening to Celine Dion. The bitch