whatevz.

today i had an epiphany of sorts. while i was sitting in my backyard, enjoying the sunshine that was not accompanied by smothering humidity, i thought to myself, "this will probably be the only time for the rest of your life you can (kind of) afford to not have a job and live with your parents without seeming like a complete fucking loser."

because i'm fairly certain if this were happening to me at the age of 27, it would certainly be regarded as far more pathetic than it is now. and so upon making this realization, i decided that maybe i should not feel as bad about my current situation as i have been and be grateful that i even have the opportunity to live in my parent's house, which is so much nicer than any apartment befitting of my price range, for free.

it's totally fine that my life has not exactly exceeded my expectations thus far. i assure you, internet, when the stars align for me, and i figure out what to do with myself (in various capacities) it will be infinitely sweeter than if i had known right off the bat. i mean, i wouldn't want to peak too soon, anyway. that's boring.

so there.

ain't no tuition for having no ambition.

i am inexplicably completely exhausted. i passed out at eight thirty for about an hour and upon waking up i felt like i had been hit by a bus. i don't know why my body is trying to shut itself down as my day consisted of getting up at 11:30, eating pancakes, showering, putting on shorts that definitely fall under "loungewear," going to wal-mart with my brother to go school supply shopping (which was, incidentally, fairly draining mentally. it was so crowded and unorganized. and the list of supplies was quite elaborate, requiring far more materials than any sixth grader would ever actually use on a regular basis), and taking my dog for a walk. none of those activities really involve a lot of exertion, so why am i struggling so desperately to maintain consciousness?

in other news, i had yet another dream about the olsen twins last night, and i have been thinking extensively about how i can convince kanye west to let me carry one of his children. i had been thinking that i didn't want to mutilate my lady parts in that way for another decade or so, but if i could have his kid, i would be willing to move that date up significantly. i'm not saying i'm a gold digger, but that would be some pretty hefty child support, and i bet when you're pregnant with a famous rapper's baby, people aren't constantly asking you if you've finally found employment or a major you are willing to committ to.

that's what you get.

upon making myself a grilled cheese sandwhich, i went to the refrigerator intending to retrieve some complementary ranch dressing for my sandwhich, but after the actual action of opening the refrigerator door, i completely forgot what i was looking for. so i stood there gazing at the various chilled items and pondered out loud, "what am i looking for?"

at which point my father walked into the kitchen and jokingly said, "i don't know. but you're just standing there looking at the refrigerator, like in life. just standing there.. looking." he was definitely kidding, and i'm not even sure if he knows, but it's definitely kind of true.