I can’t even believe myself right now. I’ve come to terms that I have recently become addicted to writing in my blog. My first action upon thinking a thought shouldn’t be to run to my laptop, right? I mean, it should, because I’m a goldmine of beautiful phrases and this stuff needs to be recorded for the annals of history, but I could probably afford to condense it into one post every other day.

I just am in such a sorry state of being.  I am wearing these Christmas pajama pants and it always depresses me so much to wear them outside of December. Christmas jammies in September just makes me want to give up and cry.

I fell asleep with my purse on my bed because that’s what happens when you don’t give a crap about your life. The contents spilled out (I did some science behind this and found that it tipped over because it was in my bed while I was sleeping), including the stack of 20 dollar bills I shoved into my purse before I got in bed. And they fell out of their envelope. And I woke up with so many 20 dollar bills around my shin area. Most people would be stoked, or go out and buy a car or a lot of illegal drugs with all dem twenties. That also made me want to cry, but we’ve already figured out why so let’s move on.