Hold It Up

I'm having an existential crisis. I think.

Actually, I have only a vague idea what the word "existential" means but I'm pretty certain I'm using it correctly and I'm absolutely certain it's making me sound smarter. You're impressed, aren't you?

So today for my lunch break I decided to take a walk because my mother gave me her issue of Health magazine and in it it said that for that mid-afternoon energy slump you should take a walk. For those of you who've seen my office building, you know it's in the middle of nowhere and so it was a rather relaxing walk.

My thoughts were racing as I shuffled aimlessly down the road. They spread from "What the hell is my ex/current/who-knows-what-the-hell-he-is/boyfriend thinking?" to "What do I want to do with my life?" Yeah. I'm totally a deep-thinker, y'all. Anyway.

So I realized I'm really not that happy at my job anymore. I've been there for two years, and I feel sort of like I've grown as much as I can. I've already been told that I'll probably never become an account rep or an account rep's assistant because I'm female. Yeah, I know, it sounds sexist, but the reality is it saves my company money and HR concerns if they promote mainly men. Not a big deal, right?



So. Established: I'm ready for a new job. Then I thought, I don't even know what I'm going to school for. I mean, yeah, I know I'm most likely majoring in linguistics, and doing that so I can travel, but really, is that what I want to do? I need to find the perfect major. I need to find a new job. I need to know what I want to do for my career. I hate feeling directionless. I need to do something and I need to do something that matters. Also, I need more money.



Then I realized what I at least want to do with my summer: I'm going to rediscover myself. You can never know yourself too thoroughly, right? And what if I discover I'm a cooler person than I thought? I'm running the risk of discovering I'm even more loser-ish than I thought, but that's not a bad risk to take, I'm thinking. So I'm going to start a new hobby. And I'm not going to wait around for a certain someone to call me and ask me to hang out, regardless of whether or not he is my boyfriend, because he's sort of acting like he wants to be just friends again and this whole "Let's try again and see where it goes" thing was his idea and has lasted only two weeks and I am SO PISSED OFF. And I'm going to save money. I'm going to save like there's no tomorrow, with specific goals in mind.

So, here's a list of Summer Goals:

1. Find a new job.
2. Save, save, save!
3. Know thyself.
4. Start a new hobby.
5. Eat and act healthier.
6. Rock the freaking world.
7. To hell with anyone who says me nay.


P.S. I totally used "existential crisis" correctly. Check out this definition from Wikipedia: "An existential crisis is a stage of development at which an individual questions the very foundations of his or her life: whether their life has any meaning, purpose or value.^[1] This issue of the meaning and purpose of existence is the topic of the philosophical school of existentialism."

As my good buddy Ryan would say, "Boo YAH!"

Bottle It Up

I just don't think clothes are fair.

Boys' clothes are so much more comfortable than girls' clothes. I'm not a cross-dresser though. I just like to steal my brothers' clothes. As in, Kiffer's never getting his sweatpants back, Andrew will eventually get his basketball shorts back, and I promised Tyler I would bring back his tshirt on Tuesday or Wednesday. My mom hates that I steal their clothes. I think they're all bitter because they can't steal mine. That would be weird. And kind of gay.

So, funny story about how awesome my brothers are ... because this story is almost not awesome at all. But it is funny. It is also the reason I stole Tyler's shirt. Except, is it really stealing if he gave me permission to take it? Anyway. I went home for Mother's Day and was watching shows with my Mama when she requested I get her some crushed ice in pineapple juice. It's like ambrosia. So I walked downstairs and got it for her and while I was down there, I thought I might have a jonesing for some Coke. Not the drug; no matter how many times my mother tells me I smoke crack, I'm totally not a druggie.

There were two Cokes to choose from. One was the half-full 2 liter in the fridge, the other was a half-full 2 liter on the counter. I thought, "Well, might as well see which one has more carbonation. I don't really like flat Coke." So I took the one from the fridge and jostled it a little to see how carbonated it was. It was okay. Then I picked up the one from the counter and jostled it a little and it exploded.

Seriously, it was like Mt. Vesuvius. I couldn't even see where the cap was gone. All I could do was let out a shriek and watch helplessly as sugary brown liquid cascaded all around me ... It got on my jeans, my arms, my shirt, my face, my hair ... The western half of the kitchen was covered in Coke. Yay.

So my dad and brothers came rushing in to see why I had screeched and burst out laughing. I thought Tyler was going to choke, he was laughing so hard. This makes sense, because I'm 99.9% positive that it was he who shook up the bottle so it would explode on the next person who tried to open it. You win this one Tyler ... but be prepared. Be prepared.

Blame It on the Girls (Or Boys, Considering I Don't Swing That Way)

***Disclaimer: I definitely wrote this post a week ago.

Do you ever talk just to keep from thinking too much? I do that, quite a lot. Now, read that again. I talk because I don't want to think. Does it look as ridiculous to you as it does to me as I write it? Yeah? I thought so too. Running your mouth without even thinking about it first is a bad combination, y'all. Really bad. And let me tell you why ... because even if you do come off as flirty and as fun as you're attempting to look, you're going to feel like an idiot at the end of the night, because invariably you're going to say something moronic, and then say something more moronic to compensate, just because you don't want anyone to know that you're not feeling at ease. So what exactly would be the cure for this dilemma? Always feel at ease.