Maine Man Hilariously Blames Taylor Swift’s Cat for His Mental Instability
It's me. Hi. I'm the Maine Man. It's me.
So, first things first. Even though this is going to be a comedic article, I want to make it known that the comedy is going to be focused on Taylor Swift's cat. The comedy is not involving mental health.
Even though, like everyone experiences from time to time, I go through rough patches, I'm fortunate to not have to endure some of the mental battles that others do. So I'm not taking any mental health crisis lightly, and please, if you're in need of help and support, you matter and you deserve help and support. So dial 911, 211, or 988 and seek the help you need.
I want to repeat: YOU. MATTER. And there's nothing wrong with not feeling okay sometimes, most times, or all of the time. Please seek support if you need it.
That said -- as I was saying: It's me. Hi. I'm the Maine Man. It's me. (Sorry, but it seemed appropriate to quote Taylor's song Anti-Hero to start this.)
I'll be blunt, okay? I limped to the finish line of 2022. Between life in general, a busy work schedule, prepping for holiday time off, and everything in between, I made it through the end of the year by the skin of my teeth.
But, like others, I made it and was able to take a break, detach from reality, recharge, and get ready to make 2023 my, well, the other word for a female dog that starts with the letter B.
And it worked!
I felt rested and energized. I was in a completely opposite mood to start 2023 than I was to end 2022 (and trust me, that's a very good thing), and I'm pretty sure in the first few days of the year, I've already smiled more than I did for the last couple months of 2022.
Until yesterday, anyway. When I saw something involving Taylor Swift that completely flipped the script for me and derailed the killer mental health train I've been driving to start the year.
Taylor Swift's cat. More specifically, her apparently incredibly rich cat.
So, let's recap. I'm (and you, too -- all of us are) out here destroying our souls at work just to try and barely scrape by to make bills, rent, and mortgage for the month. Meanwhile, there's a cat -- A CAT. A FREAKIN CAT -- that is worth more than the next 10 generations of our families will be.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to start going to the bathroom in litter boxes and hope that somehow it turns me into a multi-millionaire. Meow and things.