1) I met a friend for brunch and in talking about pimples she said, “If I have a pimple it’s your problem not mine because I don’t have to look at my face.” I have internalized this and now I understand it. My new mantra: “My face is your problem…bitch” – all of a sudden, getting through my days has become a LOT easier.
2) I wrote a post on POOP and it ended up being one of my most popular blog posts. I think I’m done being “mature” and reflective, I’m only going to post when I’m high on chocolate and caffeine. No wait… caffeine makes me sleepy. I had 1.5 cups of coffee and I’m falling asleep. Seriously. I’m telling myself the antidote is chocolate (which is what I’ve decided to have for lunch).
3) I didn’t try to look “cute” today, (as of late I’ve been living, working, sleeping and doing everything in between in hoodies)… and I get to work to have a friend tell me I should go to an event with her tonight… riiiight.
She says, “Just put some make up on, then you’ll be set to go.” So I do. Another coworker offered her lipstick and eyeliner and eye shadow… and I successfully made myself look like a 50 cent hooker (that’s ‘fiddy cent’ to you)… and I’m in a sloppy t-shirt from a concert I went to years ago. Plus my jeans are too loose in the wrong places and too tight in the even wrong-er places (I’m a “writer” I’m allowed to make up words like ‘wronger’ but it’s unacceptable for you to think ‘sum’ is an acceptable alternate spelling for ‘some’).
The fun part was getting to feel like I was 5 and wearing my mom’s make up again! Too bad I don’t have extra large heels to clop around the office in… (you think I should recreate my current look when asking my boss for a raise? Yeah. Me too.)
Oh. I will not be attending the event, don’t much feel like being the ugly friend tonight… she’s pretty enough already.
4) I sit at home in the morning. I sit all day at work. So… let’s do the math, that’s like most of my day spent on my bum (I don’t like numbers, “most” is numerical enough for me right now)… and yet why do I insist on squeezing myself in the space that would fit my left thigh for the 40 min bus ride to work? (… yes, my left thigh is a different size than my right one.)
My conclusion: I am getting far lazier than I am willing to admit.
5) I go to bed every night with high hopes for the following day. I set my alarm for early (buttcrackofdawn in my world = 9 AM, the snooze shuts itself up at 9:30) and I have MAJOR PLANS which go something like this: WORK OUT, SHOWER, EAT A HEALTHY FULL BREAKFAST, FINISH WRITING THAT STORY YOU STARTED A MONTH AGO FOR THAT ‘BOOK’ YOU’RE GOING TO PUBLISH THIS YEAR!!!
Yes, my thoughts happen in all caps because that’s how enthusiastic I get about my grand plans… but I end up waking up from dreams where old friends from high school are trying to help me find a “cute” outfit to make to my 11am brunch… only to wake up at 10:45 to realize a) I couldn’t even find an outfit in my dream b) even if I had, I wasn’t dreaming about any clothes I actually own. Bummer.
6) I’m in the mood for old beats… so some collection of “oldies” is playing off of grooveshark right now.. somehow a 90’s song found itself in the mix and now all I need is a man in too-tight black jeans, a leather jacket and a mullet… then my life will have reached its pinnacle. (* Note to boyfriend – this is NOT a hint for you to dress like that, unless you want me to weep over my taste in men…again…)
7) If in the next 7 days I remember to go to the beauty parlor to attend to my “upper lip” -this week will have been a success. (What? It’s true. We women aren’t born with zilch facial hair and perfectly shaped eyebrows… warmer days are here, I wish I was a hippie and I could give up on shaving my arm pits too. Curse you summer. Curse you.)
8) This list has done a few things: a) my love of lists is reaffirmed b) I can’t ignore the fact that my metamorphosis into a crotchy old man is now, irreversibly, in full swing. I’m sure the next few days will see me with food stains on my shirt… wait.. that already happened last week (multiple times).
What’s left? Being gassy. Check. Being highly irritable. Check. Hatin’ on the younger kids. Oh definitely check on that one. Holy poop-bombs.. I AM an old man. (Does this mean my boobs are man-boobs?)…does this make my boyfriend gay?
9) I think I should start walking around with a sign that says, “Not to be left unattended,” … better yet, a sign that says, “Do not let blog about thoughts without adult supervision”.. .but then you wouldn’t get EPIC TO THE MAXIMUM posts like this and then what would you read while on the shitter? A ‘real’ book? Bitch please.
Plus, not like anyone who reads this would honestly qualify as an “adult”…
10) Tra la la… tra la la…doop-dee-wop doopdo-wop-do-wop