Well, that’s a partial falsehood. I could start watching an entirely new show, but that seems to be something that requires energy.
And I only have enough to write nonsense.
Here are the things I’m pondering as Americans celebrate a holiday which makes them sleepy and 5 pounds heavier:
I’ll be working tomorrow and celebrating Thanksgiving on Saturday. Even though I don’t often say what I am thankful for, I am thankful for a job. It drives me batshit crazy, but I have one.
I don’t know what’s up with pictures of chicks who ALWAYS have their hands on their hips. I don’t know when this started but I need it to stop. I’m sorry, but when I have to become self-aware during a picture and have the thought that my hand ISN’T on my hip, that’s when we know we have problems. You’re not fashion models from the 80s, ladies. You don’t flatter yourself by posing that way, the camera makes you 10 pounds heavier and a teapot stance isn’t gonna change that. Now go cry into some cheesecake. That’s what I’d do. (After this I need to check all my pictures to see if I’ve ever done this hand on hip thing.)
I seriously hate hospital bills. Today I got a phone call from a billing department because I haven’t paid my bill yet (it’s due on the 30th) and this lady was being straight up CUNTY with me. I was like, “I’m sorry ma’am; I really didn’t kill your children. Go cry into some cheesecake.”
In about a week, I’ll have a significant amount of clutter removed from my place, and I’m getting a dresser. I feel like this amounts to what is known as “growing up,” and it’s fucking scary. I’m also going to cancel my gym membership (I’ve been planning to do so for about 2 years, now), so basically what I’m telling you is that the apocalypse is coming.
I tried to build a bookshelf for three days. I feel like, if this were a metaphor for the resurrection of Jesus, instead of resurrecting: Jesus might have said, “What? I’m awake? Time to go back to sleep,” and maybe would have stayed in the cave because the darkness was good for sleeping. Because instead of building the bookshelf fully, I built half of it, tried to build the rest, and then ended up putting most of it back in the box. Someone else can do that for me. … No, seriously, can someone else do this for me?
I need to write more. It helps my brain, and makes me laugh even at the risk of sounding lame and stupid.
Because what am I, if not funny? (or lame or stupid?)
Have a good night, everyone.