There’s something about September that wants to eat you.
I wrote that years ago and it’s still just as true today. In fact, every September for years and years I’ve written a post about how – for me at least – September brings a sneaking depression with it. This September has been similar, but in a way it’s a comfort to look back at my blog posts and see that the fear and dread is seasonal…and that it passes. That I’ve survived every September so far, and that’s a good record to remind myself of. And if you’re reading this? So have you.
I was going to write a longer post but I sort of think the best thing I can do today is to read a book and take a walk and do something nice for myself. And so should you. Make a plan right now to do something lovely to celebrate being alive. And instead of writing a long post I’m going to post what I wrote last year because it makes me happy, and maybe it’ll make you happy too:
September is an asshole. I don’t why. Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight or the end of summer or some sort of ancient curse, but regardless, it’s always a hard month to survive if you have depression. I’ve pulled out my light therapy magic box but it’s not entirely enough so yesterday we went to the pet store so I could cover myself in medicinal ferrets. Unfortunately this pet store knows me so they were like, “ONE FERRET AT A TIME, LADY” and “WE WILL FRISK YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE” but one was enough to kickstart the happy. It wasn’t quite strong enough though so we went to one of those zoos that’s not really a zoo because the animals are running around free and you just drive through and throw food at them. It is one of my favorite things ever and not just because it’s hilarious to see Victor get mad about a traffic jam that consists entirely of ostriches who don’t give a fuck about where you have to go.
Even better, Victor isn’t entirely trusting of large wild animals so he yells, “OTHER SIDE OF THE CAR, FRANK. I DON’T SUPPORT YOUR PANHANDLING” (he thinks they will listen better if he uses names) or “GET AWAY WITH YOUR BLACK DEMON EYES, LARRY. I KNOW YOUR GAMES” as Hailey and I feed them and assure them he really doesn’t mean it. Then he yells “I MEAN IT, LARRY. AND I WANT MY SOUL BACK.” But then eventually he’ll see some sort of animal with a limp or a missing horn and he’ll get all mushy and feed it and yell at the other animals about how awesome this broken animal is so that it will feel better about itself. It’s basically how he wooed me and it totally worked.
We went at the end of the day so most of the animals were already full and sleepy but I did have an encounter with a zebra who was terrifying, derpy and noble all at once.
“Hey.”
If you squint, his snout looks like a black panther, which is probably a very good defense if lions attack during the night.
We also met an emu (I think?) who reminded me that birds are our closest relations to dinosaurs and I fed him out of the bag while Victor reminded me that the almost-velociraptor probably wanted my meat sausages (which I thought was a gross because I don’t have a bag of penises, Victor, but then I figured out that he meant my delicious fingers) but I totally would have let this guy chew on my fingers because the smiles he gave me were worth everything. And I’m sharing it with you because LOOK AT THIS FACE.
And then I felt better. And I’m sharing it so you will too. Just remember that as dark as September gets there are ridiculous near-dinosaurs waiting to smile enormously as you hand-feed them. And that’s worth sticking around for.
PS. You know when a guy is trying to be all suave and he lights two cigarettes for him and his honey? Not as cool as you think it looks:
