Now that I’m finished sooking for five or ten minutes, there are many other more interesting and 
entertaining things that have occurred in between.
For example, I field-tripped to Brooklyn a few days ago. There was live music and an eventual dance party in my living room. The evening concluded with nachos on the sidewalk around 1am.
Oh and laughter. There was a lot of joy and laughter that day.
Also, I recently roamed the Bowery in the summer rain; sipped a pomegranate martini in a dimly lit Russian vodka lounge; gazed into 
paintings at MoMA until my eyes rolled out of my head and onto each canvas; and woke up the next day with a pair of boots on my carpet that do not belong to me.
Big picture speaking, I know I seriously have nothing to complain about.
I was chatting with my best friend in Colorado during my latest crash of Waah. She’s known me 31 years and undoubtably becomes very concerned when I dip below acceptable. However, she understands that regardless of how much I boo hoo, I never lose site of how fortunate I am to do what I do in the environments that I do it.
Not everyone will have the experience of walking past a girl wearing very little more than a g-string and
head-dress during a four-block commute stroll, for example.
Needless to say, I’m glad I feel better. The dips were never this hideous until I found out my marriage was apparently bullshit. I’m working toward forgetting I ever knew my husband. I’d say I’m 87% there. And yes, that is honestly my strategy. I believe there are things not meant to get over.
Here’s to the next 13%.