I’m just that amazing.
Does anyone else ever go through spells when they feel exceptionally proud of themselves for accomplishing perfectly ordinary tasks that almost every other adult can ALSO do. Like, I’m amazing; I can drive my car LIKE A BOSS, or Wow, I just folded all of that laundry. I’m such a grown up. It occurred to me the other day, while I was congratulating myself for calling the doctor’s office and somehow NOT being awkward on the phone, that this is probably not normal. Especially since I possess many skills that are actually somewhat impressive. Or at least they’re not skills that every single other person under the sun has too. Maybe I start this pep-talking business whenever those other skills are deserting me a bit.
Probably, I just like thinking I’m a hero.
Well, operating under this theory, we can all be heroes all the time, and the world is much more exciting when it’s full of heroic people heroically congratulating themselves for getting up in the morning without hitting the snooze button. And stuff.
So. Topic change. I have this weird problem whenever I am out of town visiting people. I always feel like I am eating them out of house and home, but if I don’t eat all their food then I get hangry. Well actually, more like hrumpy – because being hungry doesn’t make me angry, per se, but I DO get a little grumpy. A lot grumpy. Completely unmanageable. Moving on. (By the way, when I first wrote that sentence I used humpy for the combination word for hungry and grumpy. But that sounded horribly raunchy, and no matter how grumpy I get, it does not make me humpy. Ever. Just so you know.)
ANYWAY. I don’t care so much about clean eating for one weekend, but we are visiting Roomie’s parents since it’s a three-day weekend and I keep snarfing down wayyy more food than every other person in the house. This morning I kept sneakily trying to eat more breakfast when everyone else wasn’t looking. I had a couple pieces of cinnamon toast, so I wasn’t dying of starvation. Then, when everyone left me alone in the kitchen for a second, I ate a big bowl of cereal. I wasn’t really hungry but not full either. Hoping that nobody had really noticed my first bowl of cereal (even though they all did), I ate a second one. I ate some fruit. I had a cup of tea. I figured I had better stop, since I started breakfast before everyone else had and was now the last one still eating.
In other news, people back in Maryland need to stop complaining about how bad the pot holes are (confession: as of two days ago, these complaining people included me), because we have nothing, NOTHING compared to the cavernous fissures afflicting roads in the Philadelphia area. Roomie and I have been cruising around like drunk drivers all weekend, but actually, we are playing the world’s largest game of Frogger. Success rate: about 84 percent. The other 16 percent of the time involves a lot of colorful language and loud complaining about winter. Well, all complaining that I do tends to be loud.
My talking in general is pretty loud.
In fact, during a very strange conversation in which my friend Shannon and I were being compared to care bears (don’t ask) I may have been nicknamed Talks-Too-Loud Care Bear by certain crossfit buddies of mine. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I’m also not going to explain how this came up in the first place. Allow your minds to wander freely.
Indigo Onions 