Everything comes down to a daddy issue. Mine is that when I was four, my father said I could get a puppy, and then he took it back. I remember that incident as my first heartbreak.
22 years later, I finally have the means to get a dog, and I find the perfect one. He's 2 years old, part beagle and part lab, ridiculously handsome, well-behaved, house-trained and friendly. He also hates prissy little dogs, just like I do. So I'm all set to adopt him, when my stupid property manager at my supposedly pet-friendly apartment slams me with a previously undisclosed weight-restriction--I can only have dogs 25 pounds and under. Which essentially means I can only have a prissy little dog.
First, I'm furious that they didn't tell me this before I moved in, when I told them I was planning on getting a dog. And second, pathetically, I am actually really sad. It feels like I'm four all over again and someone is telling me I can't have the dog they said I could have. Except this time, I'm paying that someone $1200 a month.
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
empty
In October, a new grocery store opened up in my neighborhood. Today, I went by, and half of its shelves were empty, seemingly in preparation for closing. I walked around inside to see what was left. Boxes of oranges, some growing moldy. Dusty bags of rice. Tubs of tofu, set to expire in two days.
I have known for weeks and months now that the economy is bad. I see it everyday in the anxiety of all my friends who work in the corporate world, in the struggles of my parents to keep their business afloat, in the news, on the radio, everywhere. But something about that store struck me in a way that these other things haven't. Maybe because there was an actual physical manifestation of emptiness. Piled up goods next to empty refrigerators. Three cars in a fifty-car parking lot. One cashier among eight cash registers. A "grand opening" sign hanging off a shelf holding nothing.
Whatever the reason, it was a sad spectacle. It's always sad to see a business fail, but worse when you saw it open too. No one wants to be a witness to a dream coming true only to see it destroyed in a matter of months.
I have known for weeks and months now that the economy is bad. I see it everyday in the anxiety of all my friends who work in the corporate world, in the struggles of my parents to keep their business afloat, in the news, on the radio, everywhere. But something about that store struck me in a way that these other things haven't. Maybe because there was an actual physical manifestation of emptiness. Piled up goods next to empty refrigerators. Three cars in a fifty-car parking lot. One cashier among eight cash registers. A "grand opening" sign hanging off a shelf holding nothing.
Whatever the reason, it was a sad spectacle. It's always sad to see a business fail, but worse when you saw it open too. No one wants to be a witness to a dream coming true only to see it destroyed in a matter of months.
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