I missed a post yesterday. Way to go and shoot my NaBloPoMo greatness in the foot.
What's that? No one is reading this and I haven't even aspired to mediocre?
I guess it's OK then.
Dudes, I am cranky. It's possible this is the beginning of a seasonal funk. Sometimes I go through the motions and every seasonal task feels like a root canal. Sometimes I am the world's biggest elf. Christmas tasks loom, and they feel a little root canal-y right now. I hope I can turn the tide.
Either way, what I need to do is make a list. The only way for me to get through such a labor-intensive time is via list. I find lists motivating, because I'm just OCD enough to be possessed with a need to cross things off.
Right now I'm in a mood to dump rotten produce in the yards of people with Christmas lights up already. I feel like their sole purpose is to mock me.
Ugh. It's not even Thanksgiving yet. How can I already be wearing the cone of shame about this?
Whatevs. We're going to my 'rents for a long weekend and it will be nice to have some time with Hodie and such. My Dad will pop me some killer popcorn and my Mom will lay down an outrageous Thanksgiving meal. I just have to have the most productive day of my life tomorrow to get all my ducks in a row.
Unfortunately, I am motivated to go to the gym and squat the planet. No more. No less.
I don't know. I want to keep whining but this can't go anywhere productive.
I'm just bringin' the funk. Worse than a wet dog.
I want to get unexpectedly drunk and throw softballs at moving cars. That's what I want to do right this minute.
Instead, I'm going to tuck into a respectable Pulitzer winning novel and hopefully go tats up ASAP.
Tomorrow will bring a new outlook?