I've put off virtually everything until now--the laundry, the housework, the Christmas shopping. I haven't even put up a tree yet. I had been telling myself that I would roll up my sleeves and get busy bright and early with the sun on Monday morning.
But the sun did not appear, sleet rained down all day long, and I spent the majority of the day listening to NPR, reading all the internets, losing more games than I won of Spider Solitaire, and eating every potato chip in the house.
Well, the cat ate a few.
This is so unlike me. The potato chip thing--okay, that sounds like me--but the rest? Usually I'm the one voted most likely to give herself a heart attack in the course of an average day.
I don't mind telling you, the whole thing has me worried. What does it mean when one gives herself completely over to "I don't want to?" Who takes care of things? How long is this going to last? Should I see a professional? I can tell you right now: I don't have enough pairs of pajamas to live this kind of life.
I think that this might be the result of the company I've been keeping. 16 weeks of hanging out around college freshmen, and suddenly, I'm acting like one. Really, what else can explain it?
Tonight, I'm thinking of drinking PBR until I'm blind, having some Ramen Noodles, playing Rock Band until 2 or 3, and then falling asleep on the couch--in the pajamas I wore the day before.
In the morning, I'm going to call my mom to see if she'll help me with my laundry. With any luck, she'll let me come home and lay around on her couch.
But the sun did not appear, sleet rained down all day long, and I spent the majority of the day listening to NPR, reading all the internets, losing more games than I won of Spider Solitaire, and eating every potato chip in the house.
Well, the cat ate a few.
This is so unlike me. The potato chip thing--okay, that sounds like me--but the rest? Usually I'm the one voted most likely to give herself a heart attack in the course of an average day.
I don't mind telling you, the whole thing has me worried. What does it mean when one gives herself completely over to "I don't want to?" Who takes care of things? How long is this going to last? Should I see a professional? I can tell you right now: I don't have enough pairs of pajamas to live this kind of life.
I think that this might be the result of the company I've been keeping. 16 weeks of hanging out around college freshmen, and suddenly, I'm acting like one. Really, what else can explain it?
Tonight, I'm thinking of drinking PBR until I'm blind, having some Ramen Noodles, playing Rock Band until 2 or 3, and then falling asleep on the couch--in the pajamas I wore the day before.
In the morning, I'm going to call my mom to see if she'll help me with my laundry. With any luck, she'll let me come home and lay around on her couch.
1 comment:
You put up the video I sent you and on my birthday to boot! :)
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