I regretfully realized today that I haven't blogged in a week. So I am going to apologize in advance for the barrage of random ass occurrences, thoughts, and half baked ideas!
I would love to take Ambien...but even if it works, it is only HALF worth it since no one will be around to chronicle what happens after it kicks in....or stop me from driving a car. #singlewhitegirlproblems.
Since some of my favorite female memoir authors (Laurie Notaro & Jen Lancaster, for instance) have chapters in their books dedicated to the creepy things they do after taking Ambien...I became incredibly interested in imagining what I might be like while the inner primate was freed from conscious thought. That train of thought made me very excited...then increasingly irritated. Irritated because I will never know what will happen...at least not as long as I live alone. Who will stop me from driving my car? Who will keep me from playing with knives? What if Ambien HauteMess isn't as coordinated and falls down the stairs? Bitchy Little Rat Dog doesn't have opposable thumbs so dialing 911 is nearly impossible! Damnit! I need a boyfriend.
"A Nesting Weekend"
I think I am nesting...but not in that "Biological Clock is Ticking" kind of way. It's more like a black bear preparing for winter hibernation.
Step 1: Eat as much as you possibly can for weeks on end...amass all leftovers in your fridge.
Step 2: Purchase enough Yankee Candles that you need more than 2 hands to count them all. (almost all of them smell like some type of food)
Step 3: Arrive home from work and IMMEDIATELY rip off your bra and change into sweatpants and your Men's XL Alexander Hamilton t-shirt (a remnant from my once drunken obsession with historical politicians)
Step 5: Load up your netflix queue with awesome shows that provide you with DAYS (literally) of entertainment.
Step 6: Subsist off of leftovers around your house...or the smells from your Yankee Candles.
Step 7: Never leave your house... Never.
"Operation: Fuck You Holiday Weight Gain"
To combat gaining more weight this season than Victoria Beckham did with her first pregnancy, I joined the gym again. (after I injured myself in the half marathon this past summer, I never got back into any consistent form of cardio beyond brief spurts of dance partying with Bitchy Little Rat Dog)
My first day back...I saw three people I know and immediately remembered why I quit. I go to the gym to sweat out the wine and pizza...not to small talk chitchat about the fun times we used to have when I worked in corporate America.
SO....After Spin Class, I came home and had a Protein Shake and a bottle of red wine for dinner. (hey! It's a liquid diet that I can live with)