You know those times in your life when you think to yourself, "When did I get this way?" Or "I remember when I was like that." Or better yet, "I won’t go to that store at that specific time because I can’t find parking, there are too many people, and I’ll forget what I wanted when I get in there anyway." If you’ve never had these thoughts or experiences, well, good for you. That probably means you aren’t old enough to be reading my articles, and none of this will relate to you. Move along. For the others out there who’ve ever felt an odd sense of reality that seemed like it should be foreign to you ten years ago, but here we are, wondering why you are so annoyed with crowds of people at a farmer’s market, please continue. You’re all welcome here.
I will go through a short list of items I had thought about more in-depth this month and hopefully make you all feel less alone in your thoughts.
I used to have parties at my house...and like them.
There was a point in time when having people over at my place brought me some sense of joy. I loved having loud conversations with drunken friends, making everyone food, and having others bring their food (which I totally never got sick from, ever). Now, the thought of having just one "outsider" come into my house puts me in this weird "clean up’" mode. Or gives me some sense of impending doom, thinking, "Now my schedule will be off today, and I’ll have to do laundry tomorrow." Or pondering to yourself, "Am I supposed to feed them when they get here? I never know if I’m supposed to feed people food." As if, for some reason, your friends are these starving people that should expect to be fed whenever they get to your house. I don’t really know where this thought process came from, but that’s where I’m at now. On a side note, I will awkwardly lay out a clear plate of some sort of cheese I had in the fridge and leftover Triscuits. Because...I don’t know what the hell people do with people in the house now. I think I probably look like I’m bribing you with treats. Just eat the cheese and make me feel normal.
I used to go to more than one store a day.
This one may not be relatable to everyone, but I’ve started to realize that visiting more than 1-2 stores in a day causes me extreme exhaustion and psychological drain. Now, I know that Covid hadn’t helped this situation any, but it was definitely not the start of this "issue." I think this has to do with the fact that I don’t like most people; people are extremely stupid everywhere. At least one stupid thing will get said or done in each store you go to unless you can get out in 3 minutes or less. That’s my rule. I will plan out the isles I’ll go to in a store or know exactly what clothes I am looking for so I can just get them and leave. Sometimes I don’t even bother trying them on. If they don’t fit, I’ll just return them...
just kidding. They’ll end up sitting in my closet for years and years, probably until I die. Or remember to make that trip to Goodwill specifically for this task.
Yes, I know. This one probably made me sound like I have other mental issues going on, and I do, thank you for being so astute. But if any of these relate to you, the joke’s on you. We should probably go to the doctor for some of these.
I used to be able to sleep anywhere and for long, extended periods of time.
I swear this seems like it was only yesterday, but I used to be able to sleep on anyone’s couch, hardwood floor, staircase, bathtub, or upright in a chair for the amount of time of which is healthy for an adult to be sleeping (7-8 hours?)—all without being interrupted with a need to pee for some reason, or fretting over reactions I had to things the past week, and whether or not they will bear any weight on my future happiness. Remember those days? Where you just got sleepy at some point at night and went to sleep with some sort of half grin? Probably thinking, "I’m young still. I don’t have to worry about any of that until way later. I do what I want. Zzzzzzzzzzz" But your snore was probably cuter and quieter if it existed at all. And you didn’t wake up for another 7 hours, and only because it was the 5th time you had pressed the snooze button on your alarm, and you just got tired of doing it.
Who took care of my yard at the houses I had rented with yards?
I remember being 21 and renting a house on SE Holgate that had an epic front and back yard. It was great for dogs. However, I do NOT recall who took care of the yard maintenance there. I mean, I guess I must have. But...I am also thinking it was some garden fairies that did it or maybe a disgruntled neighbor that felt I wasn’t keeping up the "curb appeal" or some bullshit. Anyway, I now have another yard, and I was almost taken aback when I was sent an email reminder from my landlord (who is honestly the nicest person) telling us to "make sure to keep up with the yard—it’s weeding season!" Like, that’s my job? I don’t remember signing that...oh wait...yeah, I did. I guess that’s adult shit I forgot to remind myself to remember when I was telling myself, "I’ll worry about that later. I do what I want."
I used to eat clam chowder in a bread bowl five days a week.
When I worked across the street from a Fred Meyer, on my lunch break, I would simply go to the deli section, get their hot soup (usually clam chowder) and shove it in a bread bowl they’d have there, and call that lunch. I don’t know how many calories this was because chips were also involved (I like the crunch and the carbs). I do know that I didn’t gain a pound, possibly because I was walking 10 miles as a medical assistant in the office or because I was 20 years old and able to eat whatever my little black heart desired. It was always soup. And if a bread bowl was there, that was just icing on the cake. I remember a doctor telling me, "Hannah, you’re lucky you can eat like this every day. When you get older, it all goes somewhere."
That was one of those Carl’s Jr.-esque moments where I thought to myself, "Don’t bother me, I’m eating," and also, "I’ll remind myself to remember that in the future."
Hannah One Cup can be found at a couple of local watering holes, having deep thoughts to herself, looking eerily like she is having an emotional breakdown, but is doing a pretty good job of holding that and her liquor in place. She enjoys fan mail so that she can remember that she wrote an article one time that affected a reader in some way. Find her on Facebook by her name or TikTok @thursdaynight_depression.
