My Day Has Been as Confusing and Bad as this Blog Post.

When I woke up this morning and couldn't move, I should've known it was going to be a shitty day. I sometimes mess up my neck and have to spend a few days trying really hard not to make sudden movements with my head, which severely dampens my reaction time so if you see me this week please don't throw anything at my head because I won't be able to dodge it and let's be honest, you don't really have the money to pay for the reconstructive surgery, do you? That's what I thought.

So I had the spend the entire day turning my whole body if someone was addressing me, which you probably don't think is that weird but wait until you have to do it yourself.

So that's one.

Two?

My fantasy team is killing me. Not literally but it's getting close. Like if I drop one more place I will probably get an ulcer and in an attempt to cure it I'll probably drink a lot and then I'll get liver disease and die, and IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT CHAUNCEY BILLUPS?

My conversation with my friend Tard didn't improve my mood --

Me: my team's killing me

Tard: yes they are

Tard: I knew this was going to happen eventually

Tard: your team was doing too well

Me: I swear I'm this close to killing someone

Me: it could be you, tard

Me: it could be you

Tard: I didn't know you cared so much

Me: oh you'll find out how much I care

Me: with a knife in your kidney

Tard: wow ok

So in addition to the ulcer I may be facing jailtime. Not sure.

So that's two.

Three: the contents of my refrigerator?

Two bags of dumplings and one bag of wontons that the Y was kind enough to buy for me yesterday. Other than that, there's my flask of Svedka, a jug of water and some string cheese that, frankly, I'm a little scared to eat. Does prepackaged cheese go bad? I seriously need to get a car so that when I have a day like this one instead of writing a rage-filled blog post that doesn't even mention Taiwan or Korea (at least until now) I can just go buy some ice cream and maybe a cat because let's face it, I'm going to end up as one of those people who owns a cat and eats cookies and cream for dinner on Tuesday nights. Why is this, you ask? This is because of

Number four: I make the worst decisions a girl in my situation can conceivably make. Like if you got a puppy and put my life choices in front of it in form of those little bone-shaped biscuits I can guarantee you 98% of the time it will make a better choice than I would. And I am armed with facts and experience. Which apparently counts for nothing here.

It's times like this when I look back on my admittedly not-too-long life and muse, "how did I screw things up this badly?"

Now, I may be being a little dramatic. It's not like I have a heroin addiction and am carrying the child of a 50 year old married man whose company has just put my parents' out of business and so my whole family is depending on the income I generate as a stripper which will soon end because of the aforementioned pregnancy. So it's not as bad as that.

But I haven't exactly made some stellar choices either. Like when I look at my peers (is that a douchey word to use? I feel like it is) and some girl is graduating at the top of her class in her very competitive major and already has an internship with the biggest publishing house on the west coast that will turn into a full-time job after she's done with school and she's engaged to her boyfriend who knows how to tie his own ties and always picks her up when he says he will then I'm like hm. Maybe could've done things a little differently. Me, not her. Clearly. I bet she doesn't even like ice cream.

Like I'm always saying I want to meet some new people and do something different with my life but this is exactly the reason I don't like to actually go out and socialize or anything like that. When you meet someone for the first time, there is no warning signal that goes off and says "stay away from this person, you will become close friends and you'll give him the key to your apartment for emergencies but one day you'll wake up to find him sitting at the foot of your bed and smiling while he hums the theme from Titanic."

Something like that. Or maybe something less drastic, like this guy who sits down next to you in class one day is going to write you love songs and take you on picnics to the beach and ridicule tweens with you and eventually end up breaking your heart. Or it might even be good, like that waitress at your favorite restaurant is going to become your best friend and be the maid-of-honor at your wedding and bring you a cinnamon pretzel to keep you from fleeing the altar. BUT YOU DON'T KNOW, DO YOU?

And that just leaves you seven months later thinking back to that ill-fated first text message or first phone call or first drink sent across the bar and you're like, wow. Did I pick the wrong choice on that one or what. Should never have called her/slept with him/gotten that tattoo of her face/kidnapped his dog, etc.

But no matter how much you rethink your choices, I guess that's just life. Like as much as I may have just bitched, I don't regret things. It's like a policy of mine. I suspect most of it stems from a strong dislike of admitting I'm wrong, but no matter how you stack it, everything's considered life experience, right? Unless you keep making the same mistakes over and over again. This is why I don't re-date boys. But my point is that people are terrible and scary and probably often crazy but you're going to have to deal with them anyway. And I guess it's okay to believe the best of them even though once in a while it'll come back to bite you really hard and you'll have days like the one I just had. But now that you are armed with my wise interpretation of it, you'll be able to deal with it better, right? And a last word of advice: always sleep with a stuffed animal that has a can of pepper spray hidden in it so that if you pull the tail the pepper spray will spray out of its mouth. You're welcome.