I should probably get a real job, but I don't wanna. I honestly dunno if I could show up to a job at a certain time each morning - okay I know I couldn't (because I was always late, no matter where I worked). Now it just seems like it would be even more impossible. I'd so get fired from a nine-to-fiver. Plus, there's the whole "problem with my mouth thing" - can't seem to keep that damn thing shut for anything.
In the past year I lost 15 pounds but gained back five, so that's really only a loss of 10 pounds. (raised eyebrow unhappy, unimpressed smirk)
I have way too many clothes. Most of them are in really good condition but I'll never wear them (or they're now too big bc of the ginormous 10 pound weight loss), so I wanna get rid of them. I don't wanna give them away though - because I totally think somebody would buy them, at a consignment shop or eBay or something but I'm too fucking lazy to make all that shit happen. So, they just sit in my closet taking up space. I'll split the money with whomever takes them and sells them for me.
So, I have this friend, Ted, who lives in Birmingham who HATES it when I drop the "g" in my words - like sayin' or wantin'. I still do it but think of him every time I do. It makes me smile inside a little.
I'd really like to lose all of the fucking cellulite on my legs but apparently not enough to actually do the work it takes to make that happen. So, that pisses me off.
I probably don't watch enough TV to justify paying for cable but I do it anyway - mainly only for AMC (Breaking Bad, Mad Men, etc..). I should just get cable when those shows air but that would mean I'd have to call someone on the phone and order cable and then call and cancel it and then it's just a never-ending-fucking-cycle. It's just easier to pay for the shit.
I've started not putting my clothes away after I wash them. Seriously, what's up with that shit?! I'll fold them, then just put them on the chest or something and then ruffle through those to get dressed. WTF?!
Apparently I think moving something (like a glass or tissue) from the end table to the kitchen counter is productive, because it's one step closer to being in its home (like the dishwasher or trash).
I spend entirely too much time on Facebook and Twitter and checking my email. Really, what is it that I think is gonna (thinking of Ted) happen?! I look at that shit like it's seriously gonna (Ted) tell me when the Rapture is coming. Oh wait..... Okay, that was lame, but seriously - spend entirely too much time on there.
And, speaking of Facebook, I've been really upset with the Facebook iPhone app lately. It takes like a whole minute to load and crap! WTF?! Geez, I got other social media to check, ya know?!
I wonder if I'll ever be easy to deal with.
I'd like a refund (or just continue to forever defer my student-loan payments) because I don't feel like they've been put to good use and I think I'm getting kinda stupid. I think it should work in the opposite direction.
I'm probably too needy of others. I wish that weren't the case. Maybe it's because of the "raised as an only-child thing," but I think it's probably just because I'm fucked up in some way.
Wonder how many of my friends will read this. My blogs used to be personal, like this one, but then I tried to be professional and blog about the movie industry, since I was jumping careers. Going from personal to professional writing hurt me I think - expressively. I became so much more conscious of every word I wrote or who might read my writing. It really restricted my self expression. I remember being asked by a friend (while still writing in a personal manner) if I felt vulnerable, or like I was really putting myself out there - like someone could use it against me. Honestly I didn't - it was pretty liberating. Writing professionally restricted my creativity and expression. From now on, I'm just gonna write however I want.
I think two spaces after a period looks like a lot of wasted space. If you can't deal with all of the other grammatical problems and syntax, sorry - you'll eventually be able to.
Oh, and I wish someone would give me some WD-40 for my patio door because I can never remember to get it - even though I have to fight with my door lock every-fricken-day.