Work. Classes. Family. Friends. Watching “Friends.” Again. Buzzfeed quizzes. Being behind the rest of the world on our “Making a Murderer” viewing.
We are all busy people.
I don’t know about y’all but this week has been insanity. And not in a good way where I’m juggling my coffee and looking cute and making nice conversation with strangers. In the, last night’s dinner was a tray of still half-frozen French fries, still on the cookie sheet, dipped in vegan mayo whilst re-starting “Glee” on Netflix at 10 p.m.
I do not say this with pride. I know it speaks to what a disaster of a human I currently am. This busy-ness is legit and, looking forward to next week, I am taking steps to help myself keep my head above water.
Read on to learn how we can get ready for next week’s madness and not hysterically cry on the floor, listening to “Hello” on repeat because we are still not over it while eating vanilla wafers.
It’s Thursday, everyone. Time to leave our insecurities at the door and really get down to the nitty, gritty of past bad decisions.
This is a painful process. We recognize this. It is not supposed to be comfortable. If it was, everyday would be a throwback day. But it’s not. Because our souls can only handle one day of intense, agonizing soul searching a week.
People, this is serious. #SparkleNightmare was one thing, but today’s exploration goes even deeper than even that shiny purse night terror. Because this disaster of fashion past happened on our faces.
That’s right. Sorry y’all, but today is middle school make-up madness.
We have all seen that delightful picture floating around the Internet that compares today’s middle schoolers to the middle schoolers of days past.
After coming home from a long day of work, it can take a lot of willpower to gather up the resolve and courage to put your bra back on and go out into the world to be a human again.
It is much easier to reheat that big bowl of leftover pasta and rest it on your belly while watching the 12 episodes of “Shark Tank” your DVR has recorded over the weekend.
Coming home after work and vegging out is nice until a week passes and then another week passes and then you’re 97 and you’ve watched all the Netflix things but so what?
For some people, being a social human is as natural as eating chocolate cake with lunch. For the rest of us who would rather be at home devouring Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale (which is just as good as Pinterest suggests), it takes a little more incentive to put down the tea and be a person.
Here are a few things that I have found help encourage me to be a social butterfly, which (like it or not) is so good for the soul.
We survived the most epic storm of the season so far.
And by “survived,” I mean it was windy and colder than we prefer here in Jacksonville, FL, but we still went about our lives like the brave souls we are. However, I know that the rest of the country had some legitimately ugly weather. I hope everyone had a snuggly, cuddly weekend, and was inside during the winter weather.
Mondays are always rough. But the Mondays after a weekend spent under quilts in the coziest of pajamas, sipping coffee and finally catching up on “Making a Murderer”? These Mondays are the worst.
So today is all about getting us mentally prepared to kill this week at work. It is our goal to be graceful and kind as we kick ass and take names. Let’s go.
I have a gym membership. Which, for me, means that my credit card gets charged twenty-one dollars each month and I have a bland, white key chain in exchange for my payment.
Just having a membership makes me feel healthier, even if I use it sparsely.
Every week I promise myself that this will be the week that I make sure that this investment is used well — that I actually use the gym membership that I pay for. And every week this is just a blatant lie I throw at myself.
And while I am always a little down that I didn’t keep my promise to myself, I am never disappointed by the amazing reasons my brain creates that make skipping the gym seem like the only rational decision.
*Disclaimer: I am well aware that human people are supposed to work out and that it is good for you and that, when I’m 80, my hips will just break due to the lack of exercising in my twenties. My “work it out” Pinterest board would suggest that I am actively seeking washboard abs and yearn for powerful thighs. This is a misrepresentation. I dream about breakfast and dessert is not an optional food group in my diet.*
Here we are – another #tbt, where we can examine our life choices in a safe and secure way. Because, as someone wise once said, “If we do not look at the horrible decisions of our past wardrobes, we are bound to repeat history.” I’m paraphrasing but you get the gist.
It can be horrifying to look at pictures from our youth and have to think to ourselves, “Why was a stretchy shirt that could shrink to fit a doll a good idea? What was the deal with scrunchies? Why were my flip-flops made of gel?”
And then we watch 90’s re-runs and realize that we were not the only snaggle-toothed little girl, running around like a drunken Darla, shaking Pop Rocks instead of clown fish.
This might as well have been my fourth grade school picture. What a delightful and beautiful sunflower of a child I was.
Last week we shared reasons why you are an awesome adult. You buy food. You use some sort of transportation to get from place to place. You buy quality clothing. You are a real life champion, you golden nugget of a sunflower.
Then this weekend happened.
And I spent all my money on Disney World cotton candy and took a half day on Monday due to a gluten poisoning incident.
It just feels this week as though I am barely staying afloat in the rip tide that is being a grown-up.
My floors are covered in dog hair. I started laundry on Sunday and am still flirting with getting my towels washed. Basically, my self and my living space are a disaster zone.
The moral of this story is that dogs are still ridiculously expensive and I know that laundry detergent pods are way more expensive than the liquid detergent but I am worth the pods so there goes all the money.
In this self-pity vein, let us all look at ways in which we are utterly failing as adults.
Chicken sausage pasta. It sounds complicated and fancy.
It is exactly the opposite of both of these things.
As an adult (or adult-in-training), you will find yourself in situations where you are in charge of feeding others.
Whereas feeding myself sometimes consist of a bite of day-old cake and a swig of Sprite, guests demand more from me.
In my hosting experience, I have found that carbs are the way to go when feeding others. Carbs are hard to mess up and they make people sleepy so it discourages guests from staying too long. This meal will make you wanna nap in an XXL sports t-shirt for a team you mildly support. And it will make your guests want to do the same. Win win.
Plus, carbs make people happy. Happy people don’t kill the hostess. They just don’t.
Only 2000 weeks until retirement. Roughly. Math is hard.
Maybe I can be only of those people who retires when they are thirty. But don’t those people have like, skills? I probably have skills …
Has anyone ever retired before their twenty-fourth birthday because they could gracefully flirt with the line between “delightfully sarcastic” and “bitch”? I could be the first.
Would I get bored not having a job?
Um. Probs not. Thank you Netflix for inspiring Millennials everywhere to reject unemployment for the noble goal of mass content consumption.
Aren’t I supposed to be doing something for retirement? Isn’t there a 401K group I should be a part of? I feel like I should be saving some of my salary instead of making poor guac investments.
What about Social Security? That has to affect me. I think. Maybe I won’t even be able to retire because of the Baby Boomers. Always the Baby Boomers. Ugh. I’m probably going to have to work until I’m 87. At least. And, if my guac consumption stays at its current rate, 87 is an unrealistic goal.