My mother told me to update my blog. And when your mother tells you to do something, you do it. Because she’s always right.
Wish I had known that the first 23 years of my life.
There was no real reason for my stopping to write here. I guess I just ran out of things to write about. I mean, think about it. If you go back and read some of my older posts you’ll see that I don’t really have a theme, or point, in my writing.
Go on, read something. I’ll wait.
Was it pointless? Possibly. Was it funny? Well, I think so. Am I full of myself? Sometimes, I call it confidence. What is your point? Not sure, guess this is pointless.
Damn, I did it again!
My brother started a new project, called The Hundred Days Project. I’d tell you about it, but that would defeat the purpose of me linking it. So go read it yourself. And then come back, because I’ll miss you a little.
Isn’t that cool? I thought it was cool. While I have no desire to pick up a new hobby ( I can barely pick up my shoes off the floor, even though I trip over them every.single.day), reading that entry made me realize I missed writing. So even though I might not have anything to write about, I’m still going to write.
Also, if we’re being honest here (and why wouldn’t we be?), I haven’t really felt like myself the last couple of weeks. I’ve felt good, but not myself. I wake up at 5 a.m. to workout. I eat more salad than cookies. I don’t even know where my jeggings are. I spend my Saturday mornings cleaning my apartment.
Exactly like that. Red bow and all. (Source)
Except for the shoes. They’re always there. I’m literally staring at them right now, taunting me with their sharp heel.
The other day my mom told me that she and my dad had bought me a TV as a surprise, but then asked me if I would rather just have the money for something else. I told her to return it because I actually needed boring work clothes for meetings and events, and I’m trying to save as much money as I can so maybe we could use the TV money for that.
WHAT. I’ve done nothing but complain about my lack of TV for six weeks, and now I’m suddenly making grown-up decisions?!
Well, if I’m going to be an adult I insist on being a well-dressed one. Done.
But don’t worry too much about me. I still stay in on Friday nights to watch eight episodes of Parks and Rec (not on a TV, of course), listen to the Justin Bieber Pandora station when I’m on the treadmill, buy a new mascara or nail polish every time I’m in the store and eat more gummy bears than one person every should.
You can try to take the girl out of crazytown, but gummy bears are just too good.
Anywho 