Column by Katherine Speller

Katherine Speller
Katherine Speller

I suppose I just didn’t feel like writing something coherent or cohesive this week. I’ve been a weird and uninteresting breed of tired, angry and unpleasant lately and I don’t like it. There’s a lot I don’t like right now, and though I hate to be overly negative, I figured I’d put together a semi-comprehensive list of what’s been plaguing me:

The future, the summer and nearly everything that is simultaneously too-far away to look forward to and too close to ward off anxiety; shared living arrangements; worrisome weather; unpleasant commercials on Spotify and Pandora; the word “aspect” and people who use it; blaring car alarms late at night; my slow-healing Ramen burn; people who laugh loudly (read: obnoxiously) about unfunny or only vaguely funny things; the petty nature of my grievances; missing some people while growing tired of others; being lonely late at night when everyone else is asleep; being tired and generally irritable when everyone else is awake; feeling unmotivated; birds; that there is only one episode of Lifetime’s “Dance Moms” a week; not-so-short short stories; the one Lana Del Rey song my roommate never stops playing/singing; the soul-killing effect of looking at a blank word document when you’re hours away from a deadline; chapstick resistant and painful chapped lips; shoulder pain from hunching over computer screens; people who think being drunk can excuse them from common courtesy; the panic that sets in when I catch a glimpse of the sun setting (or in so many depressing cases, rising) and start thinking about all the work I have to get done.

Mostly, I hate the acidic effects of this winter-fed anger, sadness and general negativity and the way it corrodes my insides.

That’s no fun. No fun at all.