If you want to really experience The Mix Tape From Hell, just go to Walgreens. Their muzak is full of this-song-makes-me-want-to-die classics that you had previously purged from your memory.
If you really want to get the full experience, you’ll go to Walgreens to fill your very first ever antidepressant prescription. This, after meeting with a very kind psychiatrist with a very thick Spanish accent. Although you will be puffy-eyed from crying during the appointment, you’ll feel somewhat validated by how she looked at you and said, “You have been depressed for a very long time. Why have you waited so long to come see me?”
And you’ll even think that maybe she had a point when she told you that maybe you were acting funny for months from the chemical imbalance – to which you are genetically predisposed – and perhaps that played a role in your recent breakup.
And you’ll want to hug her when she promises you that it will be ok, with or without Mr. Wonderful.
So when you’re puffy-eyed, waiting for your scripts at Walgreens, you’ll actually flip through a copy of Cosmo. And while you’re looking at an article about how to pick up guys in bars, a prospect that is most heinous and foreign to you, you’ll hear the forgotten gem “Don’t let it end” by Dennis DeYoung.
And you’ll want to barf. And / or sob hysterically.
So then you’ll go buy some eye cream, get your meds and get the hell out of there.
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