gross

Signs you know your life has somehow derailed:

• Your friends forbid you from watching your worn DVD of Center Stage again.
• You cry in front of the checker at RadioShack.
• You actually mistake your digital camera for a cell phone and try to text someone on it. Sober. Actually.
• The cornerstones of your healthy diet are tap water, black coffee, Tums, and painkillers.
• You listen to the Cruel Intentions soundtrack on repeat.
• You contemplate wearing your father’s old thermal shirt as appropriate “business casual attire” (but luckily, back out at the last minute). But you still wear the same pair of pants four days in a row, because everything just seems like too much effort.

GROSS. I used to think that being tough and immune to messiness/emotions was my thing, but it looks like my persona is headed in a different direction. Now being a completely useless trainwreck is my new “thing”. (My other new “thing” is chewing a huge wad of gum while I work out, I think it helps concentration and rhythm… but that is a different theory for a different day.)

I am an official disaster zone. I slept in until 11:00 today. I never sleep in past like, 9:00 on the weekends. I was supposed to meet people to watch the World Cup hours ago, but nope, snoozing in my underwear is apparently all I could handle this morning. It’s now past 2:00 and I was supposed to be at a baby shower by 1:00. Once again, no, apparently couldn’t be bothered to go to that. Of course, it was supposed to be nice outside but it is grey and gloomy. This non-summer is really getting to me. I haven’t even changed out of my robe. My biggest accomplishment today: I just finally mustered up the strength to eat something. I made an egg and ate some Wheat Thins. Back in the day, I was so optimistic when I cooked for myself… what used to be an omelet with caramelized onions, mushrooms, goat cheese, egg whites, etc. is now…. one plain egg cooked in PAM spray. Sad.

Also, my living area is a disgrace. I’m a neat and organized person, and to enter my bedroom is shocking. We’re talking about half my wardrobe on the floor, the onion from my purse still sitting on my nightstand, DVDs from at least six different shows littered around various flat surfaces. Random paperwork everywhere. Empty pint glasses. Make-up. Right now, in my bed, is a box of checkbooks, a bunch of photographs, a paper plate, two remotes, and six pillows. (One of my friends, I forget who – maybe KJ? – has a theory that the more pillows a girl has in her bed, the crazier she is. I have gone from three pillows to six in the past few months. That means my crazy has doubled?!)

Well, in respect to the aforementioned chewing gum work out, I am going to attempt to run. The idea of moving at all is pretty horrible to me, but I am so embarrassed of my level of apathy and laziness right now. Then again, there is a slight chance I might just go back to bed.