First I was in shock and denial. I refused to give into my exhaustion and in a desperate attempt to avoid the blues I began an illicit romance with the ordinary.
We all know how that turned out.
I quickly moved from denial to guilt.
First I became addicted to food porn, which of course I felt guilty about. Then I memorized the T.V. guide, which of course I felt guilty about. Then I started watching movies instead of making dinner, which of course I felt guilty about.
Then I cheated in solitaire, which only stoked my fire of burning guilt.
And then Michael Jackson died.
This catapulted me into the anger stage. I used to be in love with the guy back when he was a black man, but are you kidding me? Did he SERIOUSLY up and die just as I was becoming a couch potato?
How many times can a dummy watch MJ prance around in a sparkly gold teddy grabbing at his . . . phallyic symbol before she bounces the remote off his head?
Does anyone else think this MJ worship is disturbing?
Let's just pretend he wasn't in more debt than the federal government. And let's pretend he never went to court in PJ's. Never mind about Neverland. I can turn a blind eye to Peter Pan pedophiles and profuse plastic surgery, but the guy has a throne!
And a crown!!!
And he named his kids Prince Michael I, Prince Michael II and Paris Michael Katherine!!!!
Someone needs to GET OVER HIMSELF!
Move over Michael Jackson and let me get freaked out by Iran in peace.
Was that rude?
Okay, I'm back in the guilt stage.