Recently it’s been a bit difficult to make myself talk about things in blog form at least once a week, but right now I’m a few beers in and figured I’d just go for it. Let’s start by complaining about things!
All I want to do is play tennis and read books. Why do I have to do all of this adult stuff? Why doesn’t Matt want to share just one car with me to save money when we grow up? Why do white strips make my teeth hurt so badly?
Who controls the traffic light by the gas station? Honestly sometimes I think I wait there for 3-5 minutes like, I need to go home. Why am I such an obnoxious drunk?
Why do pill bugs like my basement so much? Why does my mom always take my little vacuum and not tell me? I can’t find it. I don’t know where it is.
Why doesn’t my Marauder’s Map prop actually make sense? Why can’t I portion control? Why am I so anxious all the time? Why do people think tipping $4 on $74 is okay?
Maybe I should stop with the why’s. I have a stack of mail from the last two weeks I’m too afraid to look through. And a growling stomach begging to be stuffed with goodies and no calories left to do so today. I have homework to be done and a concert to go to in two days and sweater to buy for the dress I need to fit into. I have to unpack my overnight bag and get ready for bed and start a load of laundry and maybe journal a little about my insecurities and my frustrations and my goal weight.
I need to dust and organize and vacuum and plan how many calories a day I’m allowed to have this week to get down to where I was last week. I need to work out again because I’m anxious and I need to complain to my journal about being anxious and hate working out and I need to finish that one episode of Merlin that I never finished from that one time I forgot I had to take a test.
Have a happy Wednesday. Sorry for the rambling. See ya later.