Diets should start on Tuesdays

Well... they should. I am living proof that they should NEVER start on Monday's. And this is why...


It seems like most of my Sunday nights are spent reflecting on the week before. My mistakes, things I could have done differently, stuff I want to do in the upcoming week, etc.

I can never fall asleep on Sunday nights. It feels like I've taken a huge hit of crack or something before I brush my teeth and change into my pj's. So, I lay in the dark and think. Then, I turn on the T.V. and try to make myself tired by watching some sick and twisted episode of Criminal Minds. But, I never make it all the way through those shows, because I psych myself out, believing the creeps that the so-called "writers" come up with are waiting to murder me, lurking outside my bedroom window. (By the way, people who think of plots and characters for murder mysteries, secretly wish they could be involved in similar scenarios... it's probably the one thing they never got the chance to check off of their bucket list. The thought of this gives me the heebie geebies.)


Anyways, so I turn off the T.V. because now I'm scared and restless... but I just continue to lay there. I try to count sheep, but that is the most ridiculous concept of all time and whoever came up with it should be thrown in the looney bin. I get sidetracked, trying to think of what a sheep actually looks like. Then, my mind wanders to something else, like when the last time was that I painted my toenails. Suddenly, I remember that a friend once told me that staring at a computer screen or T.V. before you go to bed messes with your brain and keeps you awake for hours, even after you turn it off.

Faaaaaaaantastic.

So, it's 2:30 in the morning and I decide that it's time to get down to business and take two benadryl.


Which causes me to sleep through my first three alarms I set for myself in the morning. My exhausted mind tells me to "rest my eyes" for 20 more minutes instead of showering, because the only person that could wake up for a shower at 6:30 a.m. would be Clark Kent. And he had to wear a suit to work, so he doesn't count anyways.


Resting my eyes for 20 more minutes turns into snoring for 45. I am unable to have my morning coffee because, while I can recall every minor faux pas I committed in the previous week, I can't remember to run to the grocery store on Sundays to get coffee grounds. Now, without coffee, I am completely useless and might as well be drunk as a skunk. 

I always think I have enough time to grab a cinnamon roll from  McDonald's, which I most certainly do not, and I also forget that I was supposed to start a diet today, and I might as well have stopped at the nearest malls Cinnabon... the arch nemisis of dieting, as well as the organ commonly known as the heart.


I'm rushing to work because I can't find a parking spot, eatting my cinnamon roll on the way, and then look down only to realize I have created a masterpiece on my shirt from the dripped icing, but hey... it kind of resembles the Mona Lisa.

Cool.



I'm depressed by this point because I forgot the turkey sandwich I packed for myself on the kitchen counter, and will have to shamefully eat my second fast food meal of the day for lunch.


By quitting time, the only thing I want to do is plop down on the couch, watch 4 episodes of Desperate Housewives, with a box of Bon Bon's comforting me on the next cushion over.


...


I can sleep on Monday nights. I am well rested on Tuesday mornings. Which is why I have designated every Tuesday from now until I'm 6 feet under as "Diet Kick-Off Days".

Quirks

To bring in the new year, I'd like to address the subject of "quirks" because, to be quite frank... we've all got 'em. They are weird. They make us seem crazy. They annoy the crap out of the people around us. And yes, I think they need to be addressed.

Side-note: I find words that have two different meanings completely mind boggling. Address, as in the exact postal location of something or someone. Or address, speaking on a subject matter. 

So quirks... (Side-Side-Note: I love the word "quirks"... it's just a blast to say, really.)

It really chaps me when people get embarrassed and try to hide the crazy things that make them the person that they are. Without all of our small weird habits and "mommy-issues" we'd all be a bunch of boring nobody's, bobbing around like chicken's in a chicken coop.

Side-Side-Side-note: I just got extremely creeped out because I imagined chicken's pecking my eye balls out. I hate birds. They are conspiring to kill me, I'm 93% sure of it. If you see me in person, please do not argue this theory, unless you would like to look stupid.

Anyways, to help all of you who cannot come to terms with putting all your wacky ways out in the public's eye, I'm going to share with you a few of my little offbeat personality characteristics, to spark up some courage in you sheepish cowards. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.

• For some odd reason, and I think it may have something to do with my control issues... I like things to be symmetrical. Not in a normal, "Hey, these mirrors would look nice hanging exactly 12 inches apart from each other approximately 5 feet high." kind of way. Things in my life have to be symmetrical, as in, I will change displays in department stores so that they have the same amount of product on each side of the display and if there is a remaining piece of merchandise, why, I will center it in front of the two rows, of course. It affects my writing even. And heaven forbid there be one word at the bottom of a paragraph that just won't fit in the line above it. Should that happen... well, if you have ever read this blog before, you now know the reasoning for my rambling. Yada, yada. Blah, blah, blah. You don't understand how much more tidy this looks.
• I must to do my shower routine in a very specific order, that only makes sense to me. I've tried to break this habit and mix things up a bit, but it always backfires, something goes wrong, and it just throws my whole entire day off. And we can't have that now, can we?
• Sometimes, I sing. Loudly. In public. And by sometimes, I mean all the times. Do I have a good voice? No. Do I feel that I'm entertaining? Yes. Does my mother agree with me on this subject matter? Not quite. My favorite song to randomly perform is "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria" from The Sound of Music. And yes, I can and do change my voice for all the different nuns of the abbey. If you're going to do something, you should do it the correct way.
• I like to add "Mc" to words when in casual conversation. For example, one could say... "That guy was so buff at the gym today. He was definitely a stud." and that would be perfectly alright. But doesn't calling someone a Stud McGud give you a much better visual?
• I suck on the shells of peanuts before I open them and eat the actual peanut. Something about the salt on the outside... I don't know what it is. It makes me salivate just thinking about it.

The point that I am trying to make is that you should embrace the things that make you, you. So... you still sleep with a night light. Or you peel the labels off of every container within arms reach. So, what?! As long as you aren't committing a felony I say, no harm, no foul.

Every year around this time, we all get so wrapped up in trying to change ourselves and cover up our flaws that we forget the fact that some of our weird little quirks will always be a part of us. Perfection is dull. And if you want to change something about your life for new years, I suggest you make an attempt to be more comfortable in your skin. And when the people at the grocery store look at you as if you are a crazy lunatic for playing Yankee Doodle on your harmonica in the produce section, you just look right back at them and laugh... like the insane maniac you know you can't wait let loose.

Telepathetic

I was thinking the other day about super powers.  
As in, if I could have any super power, which one would I choose?

I decided that the power of flight would best suit me, but only because I always have dreams that I can fly and I find it quite exhilarating. Alright, well it's not really flying in my dreams, per say... it's more like I have an invisible wheelchair that I'm sitting in, and I'm in the air, looking down on everyone else from it and if I need to get anywhere, I just start pushing my invisible wheelchair wheels. The harder I push, the faster I fly. And for all of that invisible wheeling I do, my biceps still maintain a perfectly feminine shape. Although, when I wake up, I always want to rub on a good glob of icey-hot, to use as a precaution against that day-after-work-out burn.

Anywho...

Before I made this ever-so-important executive life decision, I kept on debating the concept of telepathy. At first, I thought it would be the greatest super-power to be endowed with. This could be because, at the time, I was standing in small, confined area next to someone with a bad case of body odor and the only thought that was streaming through my pea-brain was, "Dude, that extra swipe of Old Spice definitely would not have been a bad idea." Of course, if I had telepathy at that point, I could have told him this remark somewhat politely, via my inner-most thoughts.

As you can only imagine, there are other times when telepathy would be a great tool to carry in your super-belt.

Exhibit A: Meeting members of the opposite sex while out with a group of friends.

My group of friends likes to go out, have a few drinks, and bust out a few dance moves every now and then. There are pros and cons to situations like this. The pro is that it always presents you with an opportunity to meet new interesting people. The con is that these new people might not be the kind that you are really interested in meeting, aka creepy men who think it's ok to sneak up behind you and start dancing while you are completely unaware of their presence.

Now, here's where telepathy would play a key role in the lives of females across the globe...

The guy dancing behind you is normally one of two options... 

1) He is a cute med student who rarely gets a chance to go out and cut loose, since his main focus is studying up on the craft of saving human lives, and has a weird but endearing obsession with dance songs from the early 90's including Snap's "I've Got The Power"
... or ... 
2) He's a 36 year old bachelor who still lives in his mothers basement, plays halo 15 hours out of the day and had a little too much liquid courage for the evening.

Now, if I had telepathy and one of my girls was in this situation with guy #1, I would think to myself, "Yeaaaaa, that's my girl. Get it, get it, just don't go overkill on the Michael Jackson grabs." And with guy #2, I would just shoot her a quick mind message saying,  "S.O.S.", and we would race to the bathroom, claiming her bladder is two thirds the size of an average adult's.

Telepathy would be completely useful in my daily life.

But given the choice, we all know I would obviously go with the invisible flying wheelchair. Which actually, is more of an instrument, than a super power.

Technicalities.