For example, I almost posted this as my status update this morning:
"I've taken a multi-vitamin every day for 2 weeks now!! Go me!!"
No, I'm not kidding.
I caught myself mere nano seconds prior to clicking "Send."
The saddest part? I actually am super proud of myself for taking a multi-vitamin every day for 2 weeks.
I don't have a job, I don't know anyone here, I'm a Friend of the Friendless (yes I am, yes I am... 10 pts to anyone who got the I Love Lucy reference), and I haven't had the means nor funds to buy myself so much as a new purse in over a year...
So yeah... remembering to take my vitamins in lieu of poison seems like kind of a big deal.
My recent accomplishments, that I have deemed noteworthy, include:
1. The afore-mentioned taking of multi-vitamins.
2. Not eating popcorn for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
4. Shaving my legs three times this week.
5. Wearing pants to a job interview.
6. Not dumping Bailey's Irish Creme into my morning coffee.
7. Not watching Maury.
|It's the little things, yo.|
I literally have to create reasons to be proud of myself.
And no, that isn't even a little bit pathetic. It isn't. It isn't, dammit!!
I've taken it upon myself to write letters to invisible entities that I feel need to know my opinion. After all, I took a multi-vitamin every day for two weeks, so as a responsible member of society, this is my little way of Giving Back.
(Also? I literally have nothing better to do.)
Dear Pepsi Next,
Did you learn nothing from the whole New Coke fiasco? If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
Dear Dr. Oz,
I could have lived a lifetime without knowing that one of your guests pees when she achieves orgasm. Just an FYI.
Dear Asshole In This Apartment Building Who Let His Car Alarm Go Off For 30 Minutes This Morning,
No one wanted to sleep past 5:30 anyway.
Dear New York,
Your CHPs (whom I realize now are called State Troopers, but whom I will always refer to as NY CHPs) look absolutely ridiculous wearing cowboy hats. It behooves me to inform you that this ain't Tombstone.
Or anywhere in the Wild, Wild West.
Dear Burger King,
You're not McDonald's. Rejoice in your differences. Now take all that copy-cat crap off your menu, stat.
If an employee loses a finger while slicing roast beef, it might be a good idea to remove the finger before making the next sandwich.
Write it down. Memorize it.
"Remove finger from sliced beef before making the next sandwich."
I'm only telling you this because I love you.
Nix the tan. You look like an Oompa-Loompa.
Dear 40 Year Old Woman With Triple L TaTas On Dr. Phil Yesterday,
You do not actually look like a Living Barbie Doll. You look like a 40 year old woman with enormous fake breasts and too much collagen in her lips.
Now you know.
I started a blog post entitled "The One In Which I Want All The Bastards To Die" and wrote a list of All The Bastards and the ways and means in which they needed to die, complete with pictures and
Anyway, I'm super proud of myself for not publishing it. I may or may not have given myself a High 5 for keeping it under wraps.
Go Dani! It's your birthday!
Things I've had to prevent myself from gloating over:
1. I'm smarter than a 5th grader.
2. I kicked ASS during the Teen Tournament on Jeopardy for the past two weeks. I would have wiped up the floor with those little smarty pantses.
3. Wheel Of Fortune is totally my bitch.
And last but not least, I'm beyond ecstatic that none of these people are me:
(Every cloud, y'all...)
|My milk shake brings all the boys to the yard...|
|On the other hand, having a giant pink tail is kind of bad-ass...|
|I'm not shopping for Depends... why do you ask?|
I feel so much better now.
Winnah winnah chicken dinnah!!