What a Way to Wanna Be

PREFACE: I did not change Christopher's name in this. He doesn't deserve the anonymity

I was not put on this earth to impress anyone and that is never my goal. I don’t walk around saying “I work a lot of jobs and go to school” because I’m looking to sound like a badass. Maybe if I were doing a little better at handling it all I’d feel proud enough to brag a bit but most days it’s all going up in flames and I’m crying into a pile of clean laundry. Or dirty laundry. But always in a pile and never put away because WHO THE FUCK HAS THE TIME.

Why on earth do I have so much laundry? I retail therapy’d my ass off last summer. The one and ONLY good thing (If you’ll call it good) about a “break up” is getting my size 2 back. You all think I’m sick because my goal is a 2. Get over it. I’m rather vain and it’s real genetic folks. Anyway, I was tiny and I got myself all cute outfits and basically bought out Lulus entire website. So that on top of collecting sweatpants and random T-shirt’s for years, I’ve got a LOT of clothes. Refuse to get rid of any of them. I inherited Chris’s closet when he left so now I’ve got two and I keep them both filled. I’ve never really been one for “cute outfits” but I had the body to rock them and It was fucking sweet. My point is, I got a lot of clothes and I can go a solid month without having to wash anything and then I have to wash it all. I also do several outfit changes each day and in the winter I’m in all the layers so I go through clothes man.

Why did Chris have his own closet? When I moved in, I took the whole walk-in in the bedroom. He GAVE it to me and moved his clothes into the unused “pantry” off the kitchen which was creatively renamed his “clantry”. Boys have fewer things. It all fit. He left, I took it. Great storage space for my rather large sneaker collection.

I digress. I won’t assume I know how anyone else feels, but I think that feeling we get where we can do everything we need to and feeling motivated is one most people have experienced. You’re in a great mood. You’re checking things off that to-do list. You even worked out. There ain’t no mountain high enough. It’s maintaining that motivation that’s the real challenge. You fall behind on stuff, you’re exhausted and allow yourself the nap you didn’t have time for. Instead of working out you watched TV and ate cookies. Your groceries are going bad. Your skin starts to break out. Sometimes just some of that, sometimes all of it happens together. Once I get behind, that motivation flies right out the window. It was hard enough to get everything done, now I have to get caught up too? No way girl. You know what’s easy? Doing nothing. Fuck it. And while doing nothing, being lazy or overwhelmed, you think “I just have to do this. A strong, awesome person would pull themself out of this and get this shit DONE.” That’s been me all week. Except, I didn’t move. I let the exhaustion take over. The easy way out is quitting and my mamma raised a quitter because HERE I AM. I call it cutting myself a little slack, but really it’s just acknowledging my laziness and giving in to it. I am a harder worker but I'm equal parts lazy piece of shit. 

I’m fucking tired people. Maybe I’m iron deficient, maybe I don’t eat enough vegetables or consistently take my vitamins. Maybe I’m dehydrated? It’s probably because I lived off of Adderal for such a long time that my body refuses to function without it, even after all this time. Depression? Nope. I’ve always been this way and since homeboy took the dog and left, I’ve been on more Prozac than Santa. If our purpose in life was to sleep, I’d be killin’ it. I was shocked when the trauma gave me insomnia because I have NEVER not been able to sleep all damn day. I would look down from my pedestal at people who “had trouble sleeping” because I have trouble staying awake. Sleeping too much was my issue. I get my 8 hours each night honey. That doesn’t stop me from waking up, eating breakfast, and going right back to sleep. This became a pretty big issue when it came time to “adult” and that didn’t include sleeping until noon and multiple naps a day.

So I’m not being superwoman. I’m working, yeah, usually showing up late and looking like a hot mess (my families accept me for who I am and I love them for it). I do my homework on Sundays. Sometimes. Last week I spent hours doing homework throughout the week and still managed to not finish it all. And while work, homework, and exercising are my priorities, so is staying fucking sane and also not living like a farm animal. I was never one to shower daily before all this but now...it’s just a struggle and I don’t even care because showering sucks and my apartment is cold and I have more hair than Chewbacca. Someone has to keep the kitchen clean, take the garbage out, brush my teeth twice a day and floss and moisturize and all that other important shit. Turns out, the maid is out of town for forever so that’s all on me too. Adulting sucks and I know that but we need to make a little time for the things that make it all worth it. And speaking of having things that make it all worth it, check back with me a year ago when I was on my second of four vacations in three months. 

I’ve always described myself as a hot mess because that seems pretty accurate. But someone please tell me how on earth to work three jobs (all necessary because holy bills and it costs a fortune to be even mildly attractive and also debt), go to school full time (in an online program that is basically reading single-spaced 12-point Time New Roman schoolbooks for hundreds of pages a week), and exercise because that’s good for my sanity and also I’m too vain to gain much more weight (that size 2 disappeared about 30 pizzas ago), bathe regularly, do laundry, cook, clean, sleep, and not become a psycho in the process. I will take any and all advice here.

*Please don’t tell me to make a to-do list because it’s never-ending so I don’t get the satisfaction of crossing something off of it.*

Instead of writing this I could’ve, of course, opened my laptop and done something but I think I’ll pour grease on this fire for at least another day and then see if I can’t put it out with my fucking tears.