In one of her moods

is everyone having fun without me?

After 25 years I have finally figured out why people want boyfriends so much. And to be clear, a boyfriend can be anything. A boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, soulmate, twin flame, husband, pilates instructor. I’m using the term boyfriend as an umbrella. The kind of umbrella that snaps and turns inside out in the wind and stops working. 

We all just want to feel like someone’s priority. The best friend, the best man, the boyfriend. Someone you have on speed dial, someone who knows how you’re feeling by the tone of voice you use when you answer the phone. Someone you go to Storm King with. Heck, even DIA Beacon. Someone who’s there for you at the end of the day to receive good or shitty news, to watch TV or to nap. To celebrate or to mourn.

I am not in the business of reminding people I exist. There’s nothing in this world that feels worse than that. Other than breaking your toe. That was the worst pain I’ve felt and then the doctor says she “can’t do anything about it” and this is why I don’t trust that whole industry. If you are a doctor reading this, I love you.

If I ever go on a date with a guy and he forgets to text me, I pretend he was launched into space. I don’t wish him ill, I just assume he has a lot of rocks to collect for his lunar mission and that’s why he isn’t responding. Or like, the service is really bad up there. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t want to see me again.

Boyfriends are great because, by contract, they’re your number one call. Work was bad, work was good, this friend is annoying, this friend forgot to call me back. A boyfriend, I’ve found, is someone who you can complain to. And they can complain back to you. And you can sit on a couch together, you two against the world, just kvetching. 

When everyone is annoying or disappointing me, I wish I could tell my boyfriend. But then again there’s always the possibility that your boyfriend is annoying or disappointing you, in which case you are supposed to “journal”, but nobody reads those things.

My job ended today and my new one starts in 10 days and today was just normal. There’s no fanfare when you leave a job unless you’re the President of the United States. And even then, there’s only a lot of fanfare if you’re assassinated or if you refuse to admit defeat. I closed my computer at 5pm and went for a walk around the neighborhood. Outside, nobody knew I just finished my job. Nobody gave me a high five or a wave or a head nod. The creators of my show have no idea that an accountant on their show about a jewish female standup comedian was in real life a jewish female standup comedian. And maybe that’s on me. I have had trouble confronting authority figures ever since I cried in my principal’s office because he canceled our outdoor movie night fundraiser due to low ticket sales.

I know my feelings tonight will pass because the only way out is through. This applies to bad moods and sad nights and kidney stones. Maybe I should go to medical school.