I made this cartoon. And you can mock me for it being derivative of Hyperbole and a Half because it totally is. She’s a genius.
I am not a genius and so I will splain my cartoon as you’re probably right now going, “Huh?”
In the first frame, “Anxiety” is a scary monster coming to eat me. Original, no?
In the next frame, I shoot down Anxiety with my logic gun. Anxiety hates logic, and it goes away. That’s me. That looks like me, right?
In the last frame, Anxiety tells me that I will get tired, or run out of logic bullets, and it can wait to eat me until I do.
I get super anxious, and then I apply logic to my anxiety, which helps, but it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. And still anxious, what do you know?
But I’m lacking in insight. It’s the weeks of sleeplessness and crushing anxiety. Everything looks grey and dull and dusty. Probably because it is. Dusty, anyway. I should go and do the dishes. I have been so bad about cleaning. I don’t understand why vast hordes of mice don’t brave the poison in the basement and take up residence in my kitchen like last year. My kitchen is BEGGING for mice. They don’t even have to work for a snack in my kitchen. Baby Peanut is only thinking of them when he announces meal’s end by throwing the contents of his high chair tray down onto the floor.
Because he’s a giver, Baby Peanut. He wants to make sure the floor has enough Cheerios. And hey, if he himself should happen upon a floor Cheerio too in his journey from toy car to toy truck, well that’s just a bonus, right?
So who am I to stand in my way.
I’m anxious because it’s Monday. I’m anxious because I have to go to the dentist in the morning. I’m anxious because it’s supposed to snow and I’ll have to drive to work, which is far away, on icy roads. Plus they’ll close school and the Bishop will stay home with the kids who will magically morph into happy children for the day and they’ll spend the day making snowpeople and igloos while I slide around in my car. I’m anxious because I haven’t slept in six years. I’m anxious because Chaos was “not herself” and even though she doesn’t seem sick, maybe that’s just because she’s on her way to getting much worse and she’ll be up at 3 a.m. howling and refuse to go back to sleep until 6:15 and I’ll be too stressed out to go back to sleep even if I did get the Bishop up to take over the howling at a certain point. And it’s not like that’s never happened, because it HAS happened, and more than once.
I’m anxious because it’s Monday.