I turned 31 yesterday, which would absolutely be unremarkable except for the fact that Justin, my big brother, died when he was 31. That’s a friendly way of putting it, though. Justin took his own life at 31. There, that’s more realistic. I’ve been dreading my birthday for almost the whole year. I was super […]Read More Happy Birthday to Me
My last post on HFOW was a year and a half ago. I don’t know about you, but I feel like some big shit went down between December of 2019 and July of 2021? Like maybe something fundamentally shifted worldwide for a whole year? I just can’t quite put my finger on it… If you […]Read More Did You Miss Me? I Sure Did.
Dear Dad, I call you “Gerald” when I’m angry with you. I call you “Dad” when I think about all the things you did for me. I think about you every day: what you’d think of the news (you’d be incredulous), of technology (slightly offended, probably), of a certain movie (would you hate Marvel films […]Read More One Year Later
Do you think Seasonal Affective Disorder can work in reverse? Because I’m starting to think that maybe it can. Case in points: 1. The days are getting longer, which means there’s more time for me to examine all my decisions by the light of day and worry myself into a tizzy or a panic attack. […]Read More And I Was Doing So Well
Missing out on the job I’ve wanted for five years knocked the air out of my lungs. The Big Breakup Heartbreak pushed me to the ground and rubbed my face in the dirt. It left me feeling disoriented and unsure of myself. The Little Breakup Heartbreak gouged open old wounds and left me scared of […]Read More Perspective
It’s like Asimov’s I, Robot only less fun and the movie adaptation would star Michael Cera in drag as me instead of Will Smith as the lead guy. I’ve been exhausted lately. Not post-blood clots nap time exhausted, but so tired that I actually have to lie down or I will pass out. The fatigue starts behind […]Read More I, Hypochondriac
I have tried to sit down to write this post like a zillion times and then my Anxiety Voice kicks in and gives me the sweats. Like this: Hey, Whitney. No one reads your blog anymore. Literally, no one. You’ve fallen from your position as a recommended humor writer and everyone thinks you suck because […]Read More You’re A Writer, Aren’t You?
I’ve been 25 for four whole weeks now, without once shaving off all my hair (just the half that’s already shaved, thank you), or buying a sports car, or–more realistically–buying out the local Whole Foods of all the chocolate and chocolate-related foodstuffs and eating them guiltily in a corner while Atreyu looks at me thinking, maybe […]Read More 25: A Quarter Century In Review
Things No One Tells Anxious People About Owning Their Own Home: Buying the home isn’t the expensive part. I mean, yes, it costs a lot of money and the down payment is scary and the mortgage is this looming paper mache monster (made out of bills, obvi) that looks like the sand dune at the […]Read More The Neverending Panic Attack Story
My neuroses were showing today, and not in a oh-look-how-cute-and-eccentric-this-girl-is kind of way, but in a holy-fuck-put-her-in-a-padded-room sort of way. And you know why? Because all of the shrimp are out to get me. I just KNOW it. For lunch today, I had some leftover pasta that had shrimp in it. I know, I know. […]Read More Daily Conversations with Anxiety: Fucking Shrimp, Man.