My days just continue to get worse and worse, because now The Hill is ending its famous “50 Most Beautiful” list.
This tragic news broke Wednesday morning, and my world has been flipped upside down. The only reason I came to Washington, D.C., was to be included on lists that validate my self-worth and existence.
You think I’m wearing golf polos all the time to show off my dad bod for the hell of it? No, I’m doing it because I thought someday people would notice and put me on fun lists.
What is the purpose of all that now? Do I even bother making sure my hair is on point and my blue eyes are looking incredible? What about my beard? This facial hair took years to carefully craft. What is the point of anything anymore?
It means next to nothing for some random girl to tell me I’m beautiful. Does that really happen? No, but it wouldn’t matter anyway.
But making a list from a major publication? Well, that’s a totally different story. It would finally cement me as a serious member of the self-obsessed D.C. elite.
I guess now I just have to go back to being a humble regular guy. Damn, life sure does come at you quick.