All I needed was some arsenic...

Low, upset, sad, depressed - whatever it is, it is not a nice thing. No, you end up crying during every scene of Hum Saath Saath Hai... when you are sad. I do.

I was very low the other day. The only thing I was craving for was, well, arsenic. Why, you may ask?
It's because arsenic is my favourite poison.

It's just that I didn't really want arsenic because I don't look forward to die, yet, I did want arsenic.

So, instead, I decided to write "Contains Arsenic" on my big, white, water drinking mug so that ever time I drink water I may believe and feel good about drinking Arsenic. (Yeah, I drink water in a mug. Because I think it is cool. Arsenic in a mug is cooler)

My friend, D2 had once told me that good handwriting was a skill she was mighty proud of and I wanted my arsenic to look good so I took the mug to her.

But this is what she did!

All that I wanted was some neat and clean arsenic. She made my arsenic look ugly which is not a nice thing to do to someone who is upset.

And because I got more upset she wrote it again on the other side and this is how it looked - horrible.

This time I burst out crying. (Shut up! I was seriously upset)

Seeing me cry, D2 got extremely worked up and started shrieking, "Oh my God, Oh my God, please don't cry I will do something about the mug, it will look fine again. Don't cry, Diptee."

And then this is what she did -

Seriously, this was her idea of setting it right for me! Seriously! Striking out and rewriting below!

And later, when I showed her the picture, she exclaimed, "Oh, cool, you clicked a picture of my crotch!" That totally made me miserable. 

(I know you guys scrolled up to take another look at that picture. You are sick! *rolls eyes*)

I walked up to her desk, picked up her mug (I have no idea what she used it for so I had to give it a wild scrub first) and scrubbed and scratched off whatever was written on it.

Finally I wrote on the mug (my handwriting sucks but by now I was too tired to bother) and drank gallons of arsenic water from it to feel better.

I did feel better. I guess. It did not kill me but it did kill something, within.

***

PS. I am lucky to have friends like D2 and D1 (though she wasn't around on this particular day) to give me a laugh every time I feel horrible.

PPS. I have no idea why I wrote this but I feel better after writing it. So, well. I know it made no sense and I am sorry you had to go through it.

PPPS. Yes, that is a bottle of benadryl on the background in the last picture. It is there not because I am unwell but because I love benadryl. (people who know me, know that)

If a man lures me with a bottle of benadryl, I will elope with him. (Okay, a man who looks like Sirius Black and lures me with a bottle of benadryl... and has a farmhouse in the European countryside, I will elope with him.)

PPPPS. (Not sure if PPPS and PPPPS even exists) D2 sent me this picture and called it, "Arsenic love". She is crazy!