After catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realized I didn’t like who I was. I decided the best course of action was to cover the top half of my face with a pink, fuzzy bucket hat. I searched the nearest gutter and found the perfect one.
I got tired of having a personality, so instead I’m wearing this bucket hat.
It fits me badly, as all bucket hats are legally required to do. The hat makes me a blank canvas, void of criticism, individuality, or rejection. I’m using it as a shield from conflicts, conversations in public, or anything that requires effort. My husband hates it.
I got tired of resolving difficult situations, so now I’m just telling my husband “Since we’re being honest, I don’t care about attending your improv shows, but I will throw twelve dollars at you and laugh in increasingly fake ways while yelling ‘WOW! DID YOU REALLY THINK OF THAT IN THE MOMENT?’”
We are now divorced.
I got tired of being divorced, so instead I’m paying a matchmaker to slap me in the face forty-seven times and tell me I should focus on “finding me” while simultaneously mouthing the words “it’s hopeless.”
I got tired of listening to my boss explain how to earn more “market revenue in this exciting new tech space,” so instead I’m picking up a dictionary and screaming “YOU DEFILE THIS BOOK” while lighting it on fire.
I was fired immediately.
I got tired of writing cover letters on LinkedIn, so instead I’m just tattooing the word “SPECIAL SKILLZ: TIRED AND DESPERATE” on my forehead.
I send grizzled headshots now instead of resumes.
I got tired of checking my email for job offers, so instead I’m just playing that scene from every early 2000’s romantic comedy where the woman’s voicemail says, “You have no new messages” on a loop for eight hours at full blast.
I was evicted from my apartment and moved into my car, where I’ve declared myself a sovereign nation. The capital is Loneliness and our national anthem is “Wonderwall.” The national flower is the Wet Wipe I used as toilet paper once and forgot to throw away.
I got tired of sleeping in a Walmart parking lot so instead I’m sleeping inside the walls of a vacant building like Candyman. Instead of a hook I have this bucket hat.
It was all working okay until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I didn’t like what I saw. I got tired of having this bucket hat so I’m taking it off and now I feel better.
I ran into my ex-husband today and apologized. He’s letting me sleep on the couch until I figure things out.
I left the bucket hat where I found it in the gutter. It’s time to put effort into resolving interpersonal conflicts and having conversations in public. I’m going to face criticism and regain being an individual.
I’m ready to have a personality again.
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Emily Menez is a comedy writer who has created content for IFC, Funny or Die, and CBS. She hails from Overland Park, Kansas, which is the coolest part of the Midwest (do not challenge her on this). You can find her glossy headshots and various writings here.