In Which I Tell You Stuff You Already Know

I don't know if you've noticed, but I've totally noticed how obsessive I am. It's like a lot. Like uncontrollable. Like oh my god how did my parents EVER let me move out because my obsessions keep me from being able to properly take care of myself.

See, I've done these mental gymnastics that allow me to believe that as long as I'm drinking V8 splash with whatever I eat, it's totes cool if I have Laffy Taffys for dinner, also maybe as long as I maybe pair those with something healthyish like a fat free croissant or a slice of turkey. Because, yeah, cooking is way too time consuming or something.

Also, since I currently live alone (my room mate is in Peru on a medical mission trip), I basically nest in the living room, surrounded by clean laundry and blankets and books and my computer and the ridiculous amount of TV on DVD I've been watching. In the past threeish weeks I've watched three seasons of Sex and the City, two of Lie to Me, and one of Futurama. How I've had time for those between school and work is beyond me, but I've also fit in a few books and like, no, I haven't really hung out with a lot of people but that's because of how obsessive I am.

I think this is why I'm feeling like I'm stuck in a rut. I'm not sure which is the cause and which is the effect, but I do feel like everyone around me is doing something like getting engaged or married or having babies and while I don't really want to do any of those things I would like to be doing something other than watching TV and waiting tables.

Instead, I'll hang out with Cal Lightman and learn about microexpressions, which are totally real by the way, and this show makes my obsession with psychology about eleventy billion times worse and think about changing my major like A LOT. Also, I've noticed that once I write one blog post then I get all excited about writing more and then I'm like 'dude I should write like every five seconds' and then suddenly I have ten posts waiting to be posted and I'm no further in my story but like yeah, I did some writing that day.

What was I talking about?

Clearly, I fail at life.

Excuse me, I have to peace out. Futurama is on and I have some SweetTarts to eat and V8 juice to drink. Also, I need to finish typing up my post about my definition of love or something.

Yeah.

Sorry, Mom and Dad!