So Euridice stepped on a snake and it bit her so she was sent down to the underworld where she belonged. 

Some would say it was her fault for walking in the place where the snakes were basking, and why couldn’t she walk in the field of daisies like the other fair maidens?  Euridice did not have an answer to this, except to say that she hadn’t really been paying attention that day, because she hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep, and if it were possible for her to reconsider that afternoon, she would for sure head over to the daisy field instead.

Except now it was too late and what was she supposed to do?

Her boyfriend Orpheus was pretty pissed off but he knew some guys and he pulled some strings and he got her out of there, except at the last minute he looked back at her because she was really quiet and he wanted to make sure she hadn’t wandered over to the snake hillock again, and whoops, that was not in the contract and back she went to hell again, this time forever.

Well this was not a good situation, said Euridice in a later email to Orpheus.  Thanks for nothing–and Orpheus shot back that if she wasn’t so self-destructive in the first place then none of this would have happened.

STOP YELLING AT ME she wrote back.

I’M NOT YELLING, YOU’RE YELLING wrote Orpheus, AND IF YOU’RE CUTTING YOURSELF RIGHT NOW WE ARE BREAKING UP FOR GOOD.

There was silence.

Are you cutting yourself?  Wrote Orpheus, who was now doing gchat because it was faster.

Don’t worry about it, wrote Euridice, who was known to have a weird relationship with her mother.

You’ve got to be kidding me, wrote Orpheus.  Seriously, this is too much.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, wrote Euridice.  Should I just get used to being in hell? Is that what you want me to do?

You can start with getting a more positive attitude, wrote Orpheus, whom at this point was pretty much ready to give up on her and resume strumming his lyre  for the wood nymphs who weren’t very smart, but at least they appreciated him.  My god was he sick of Euridice and her drama.  The only good thing he could say about her at this point was at least she wasn’t fat. But “at least she’s not fat” only goes so far, even in the woods.

You want me to have a positive attitude about hell?!? wrote Euridice.

There’s got to be SOMETHING good about it, wrote Orpheus. It’s warm, he offered, or they have good beer.

I don’t know, wrote Euridice.  Maybe I should do a gratitude journal.

Please do, wrote Orpheus.  And don’t tell me what’s in it, I don’t even want to know.  Just keep it to yourself for once.

Are you going to come back? wrote Euridice.  Never mind, forget it, I didn’t say that.

Seriously, I can’t talk to you right now, wrote Orpheus, and he signed off.

Euridice watched Orpheus’s green light turn to a dead gray with an x through it, and she put down her razor blade.

And here are the first few entries of Euridice’s gratitude journal from hell:

-new friends

-don’t have to dress in layers anymore

-indirect, warm light from the fires of hell more pleasing to the eye than overhead fluorescents.

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