Drunk. For realzies.

Actually, I'm not drunk for realzies. But a very long time ago, I said that I would write a blog every day, even if it's like the day I wrote a journal entry that just said "Drunk." Today, is that day, because I'm tired and uninspired. Sorry team.

I was going to post a picture I took of some angry ants, but then my computer overheated and shut down. Swarms of ants are a little bit awesome. I like them because they're easy to confuse with swarms of aunts, but less dangerous. Later, the ants got me back (because, in general, they're camera shy) by biting my legs. Then I tried to take a picture of the bite, because it was dark and my camera's flash was the only way to see it. It didn't work, probably because I was walking as I took the picture.

Crap, happy song. Today I have to go with my most dependable happy song, Anthem by Leonard Cohen. It's my song for times where things aren't going as planned, when I feel like a failure. I'm not certain that many people who know me realize it because I try to hide it so that no one will call me on it when I fail, but I'm a massive perfectionist, so much so that I used to hit myself in the forehead every time I made a mistake during piano lessons as a child. My piano teacher used to get really upset because she thought my parents would end up thinking she was abusing me. For the record, she wasn't. Anyways, Anthem is the best song for those days when I'm depressed because, like most humans, I'm very far from perfect. I would quote it now and tell you why, but actually, I won't. Just find it on a day where you feel like you need it. You probably won't regret it. Unless you do. And if it doesn't work, I suggest plan B should be filling the void inside with nachos and icecream. And Plan C, some sort of field prancing. Just avoid ants (or aunts) because, ouch.

Anyhow, I won't promise tomorrow's post will be any better. I think my life needs more sleep.

Drunk.

Day three of blogging. I promised myself when I started this that I would do it everyday, so, here I am, blogging. On day three. I think I can do it, I managed it with my journal for awhile. I said "I'm going to force myself to journal every day," and I did, even when it was entirely unnecessary, like the night where my entire entry was: "Drunk." Actually, I think it was one of my better entries. Quite insightful.

Since I don't really have a good blog topic but I don't want to fall out of the habit so early, I'm going to just write about my day and see what comes of it. I woke up this morning and did a bunch of stuff that I now forget probably involving coffee and showering. At some point I decided that dressing would be a good idea if I wanted to emerge from my apartment at some point, which is about when life became difficult, mainly because yesterday I decided that laundry was not worth my time. A fine decision, but it didn't leave me with many options as I stared into my closet.

I eventually decided to wear a black skirt, but, due to recent weight loss (new apartment with hardwood floors + socks = incredible calorie burning dance parties + many new bruises) combined with no discernable source of income, most of my clothes are a few sizes too big, and this particular skirt was already a size bigger than needed because I bought it on sale ("cheap over-sized clown skirt...score!"). So, it almost fits (read: can stay up...kind of), but not quite enough that I couldn't guarantee that if someone decided to pants me they would meet even token resistance.

Although I've never encountered anyone trying to pants me, even when actually wearing pants, it's an important daily consideration, because I know the first day I don't think about it is the day I'm going to be the victim of an unexpected pantsing. You may be thinking, "What would be the point in attempting to pants someone in a skirt?", to which I say, "Good point." But the Boy Scout in me likes to always be prepared, even when I'm not quite sure what my hypothetical assailents motivation could possibly be (fine, you caught me, I wasn't actually a Boy Scout, but the Brownie motto, "Lend a Hand," has never once helped me avoid an embarrassing pantsing).

After much cost-benefit analysis of my outfit, I was finally ready to hit the world . And I'm pretty sure some stuff happened there. Ooh...there was cake at some point, cake that I ate with my hands off of a paper towel, which I think just makes it more delicious because it was all like "Haha, you can't eat me because you don't have plates or utensils" and I was like "Think again, m.f." Actually, that cake probably explains the coherence of this post, cause my blood sugar is a little wonky now. Totally worth it though, if only to show the sucker who's boss (it's me, by the way, I am boss).