Time to suck today's dick!

Last night I set my alarm on my phone to make the 'alarm' sound when it went off this morning. I didn't preview the sound first. FAIL. I imagined it would be along the lines of a standard beep, beep alarm clock. Boy, was I fucking wrong. I woke up to what I was pretty sure was the apocalypse goin' down! Then I realized what I had done.


Not letting the alarm clock incident allow a sneaky hate spiral to begin sneaking it's cunning self into my day. No siree! (side note- there will be a few hyperbole and half links in here because I really miss Allie Brosh. Actually, I have been chasing the high of her work for a while now and reading them repeatedly begins to stop working as well after a while. I mean you know what part is coming next. It's like watching a movie a million times *cough Pineapple Exprasdf* I am feigning for something new! Where the fuck did she dissappear to anyway? Please come back!!!) 


Today I will CLEAN ALL THE THINGS! I only have 2 months to get my shit together before I move BACK across the country to start school. There are about 100 things that need to be sold or donated or whatever it is that you do when you move like an adult. Basically the opposite of how I moved to Arizona..and Nevada. Which is throwing as many things as I can fit into my compact vehicle (it's kind of like a game of tetris. hehe.) allowing only enough room for reagan to surf on top of luggage in the back seat. 

Then I do the surfing. I sofa surf until I find an appropriate place to live. Only for about a week. Or two. Except for in Arizona. I only lived there 4 months. Sofa surfed the whole time. Pretty impressive, huh? Regardless of my old ways, I have changed. Actually I should say my standards have raised. Ah, fuck. Honestly, since my mom knows I am moving ahead of time and I have a lasting job here, she is making me plan a specific date and get movers and all that jazz. "When I feel like it", isn't going to fly this time. So, true to my nature, I have procrastinated to the absolute last minute, without lifting a finger, to begin accomplishing the myriad of tasks awaiting me. Like finding a place to live FIRST. I like to start things on Monday's or 1st's of months. I decided that since February was the short month and March didn't motivate me, the aboslute last moment to start these things would be April. Since I have been in a weird gluttonous state of self remorse (oxymoronic) I figured that Monday trumped the 1st of April for 2 reasons.

1) Sunday is the day of rest. Although I'm not religious, not even a little bit, and I haven't been doing any extreme activities which require rest. (Who am I kidding I haven't been doing any activity AT ALL, really.) I have some shit up my sleeve and I figure I should probably rest up for all the shit up there because it's going to be INTENSE!
2) It was April Fool's day yesterday. Starting something like being responsible on All Fools' Day would been like playing a practical joke on myself. That day is just not conducive by any means.
So here we have arrived at Monday. The first one in April. Which means todays goals are as follows:

• was myself. THOROUGHLY.
• get some fucking groceries. Mostly, something green. My organs are conspiring against me. I can feel them.
• put the trash IN the trash can and put that trash can trash IN the dumpster.
• make one big, fat craigslist ad for my years worth of hoarded furniture and such. 
• exercise muscles.

There. Only 5 things. Not so bad? If I feel like I need to medicate myself in order to make this happen I shall do so. I lack self motivation. I'm sure my employer will thank me. I am a nanny and it is bad when the mother feels like she has to poke her head in on us from time to time because I need supervision. Ya, that's right. She's home all day. Fucking strange, right? Hey, at least I offer entertainment. I am underpaid so I don't really give a fuck.

Will I complete 5 out of 5 tasks? I don't know? Stay tuned imaginary blog followers, for I will post pictures of me accomplishing these things (except for showering) as a challenge for myself. If I win, I get wine. If I lose, I must attach all of the strange cuts of the grass fed beef in my freezer to my body and wander in to Red Rock Canyon where I will most definitely be eating by a mountain lion and Reagan will be left to fend for herself, most likely becoming a rabid human-killing machine demolishing the fruitless population of Las Vegas, Nevada and that would be totally and completely my fault for not just taking my fucking adderall. That doesn't sound so bad actually. Someone with a big dog must sacrifice themselves! But not until June 1st when I will safely be in Texas learning things.  Reagan's rabies vaccine lasts 3 years anyway so I'm exempt. BOOM!

"THAT WAS A TASTY HUMAN, GOT ANY MORE OF THAT?"

I'm so damn odd.

I'll shut up and go shower now.

JOKE IS ON ME.

Before I forget I would like to write about my lengthy adventure trying to procure some food. This is why I opt to just stay at home and not even try to do things like mix with the general public. So I wrote the last blog post and I was like, "hmmm, I'm super hungry. Probably because it is 2 o'clock and all I have ingested is 2 cups o'coffee!" Plus Reagan was pacing around and begging for me to get her the fuck out of this godforsaken box-of-a-living-quarters we called home. So I put on her leash and we hopped in my car. I thought I was going to be disgusting and buy a frozen pizza or something at fresh & easy that way I could self check-out and not have to deal with anyone's bullshit, but noooo.


That would have been too easy. 


As I pulled out of my complex with my left hand turn blinker on I saw that there were so many cars I would probably have to wait like 30 seconds to get across traffic. Fuck that. So I impulsively "hung a ralph" and started driving aimlessly. It was like my id and ego were having a conversation that I wasn't even allowed to take part in:


Ego-spoken like Dr. O'hara on Nurse Jackie because that bitch sounds smart!
Id- spoken like a caveman because BODY DO WHAT ID WANT!


Id: Jack in Box?


Ego: Proposterous. You made us get an oreo shake from there last month when you took over with your pathetic THC excuse. 


Id: oh. El Pollo Loco? Hear put birds in fire on sticks and spin long time! YUM!
     Id would be referring to rotisserie-style chicken, in case you were wondering.


Ego: Absolutely not. That dimwit who thought we were dating him a few months ago talked about that place with his abominable stutter several times too many and ruined it forever. No. 


Id: Uh-huh, you right. Puh-na-ra!


Ego: That would be a sensible choice since we are having to resort to "fast food" methods however you made her run out of the house wearing those horrific house shoes that ironically find themselves out of the house more than they do in the house.


Id: Ahhh, who gives shit what people tink. No so bad.


Ego: [looks in rear view mirror and raises and eyebrow, kind of like this] 

[Except what he actually sees is more like that]


Id: Monsterrrr!!! Oh. Id see. Ok. 'N Out. down street.


Ego: That is an option. Just please don't make her go in to Panera Bread looking like this and then have to WAIT until the order is complete while concerned strangers and small children stare sympathetically.


Id: 'N Out! 'N Out! 'N Out!


Ego: I am GOING you fucking imbecile!!

-Approximately 56 seconds later-

Id: Oh hell no. Line too long. Look, girl ask food at cars in road. No time! Me wants food!

Ego: Well why don't you compromise for toasted sandwichy goodness by going to that Quizno's right there. I do quite enjoy their sugar-laden, enamel-raping raspberry lemonade.


Id: QUIZNOOO'SSSS




So that's how I ended up at Quizno's... moving right along.


I don't eat out very often. I actually am really in to eating healthy and making an effort to see that my body does not go before my brain does. Let's face it, that would suck. I am even starting back in school this year with my major in nutrition. But today I am just not in the mood to like buy groceries or maintain a train of thought long enough to cook something that would actually be edible. 


When I got to the counter I had no clue what I was doing: 


[Quizno's guy will be referred to as QG]


QG: what would you like?


ME: umm, turkey.


QG: what kind of dressing?


ME: what is there?


QG: there is like mustard or ranch...


ME: eww, nothing. You can just skip that step.


QG: ok, what bread do you want?


ME: (Fuck! There is always like a million kinds and I can never decide! Oh here's a sign. Only 4 options? Lame.) "I'll take the Rosemary Parmesan"


QG: "ok, and what kind of cheese? We have cheddar, mozzarella, or swiss." (He could tell I didn't read the menu and was totally drowning so he threw me a life preserver with the cheeses, but that is as far as his insight took him during this painful conversation)


ME: Mozzarella.


QG: Is that all.


ME: I get vegetables on the other side, right?


QG: Yeah.


ME: K.


[Jeopardy theme music]


QG: What vegetables?


ME: lettuce, onion, pickles, and olives. (I had figured out how to read the signs at this point and was prepared.)


QG: Alright do you want to make a meal.


ME: Sure. 


QG: That will be $6.49.


[I hand over my debit card]


-$6.49 is why I would rather just not eat until I decide that I have to be a grown up and go buy some damn groceries! Also, this is where is gets freaking a w k w a r d.


QG: How is your day?


ME: It's good. You?


QG: Good.....


ME:......(waiting on receipt)


QG: I'm about to drop dead


ME: Huh? (I want my receipt so I can go eat my damn six and a half dollar sandwich)


QG: Ya they made me close last night.


ME: Oh......(why is it taking so long to give me my fucking receipt?)


QG: How is your day?


ME: Gooood....slow, but good. (dude, are you kidding? I am wearing two different shades of gray athletic wear, house shoes, with my hair so greasy that I'm pretty sure my scalp has to begun to reabsorb the oil because it too, has lost all hope..does it look like my day is so great you need to ask twice??)


QG: Aw, that's good.....


ME: ..............(seriously if I don't get my receipt in like- oh praise Jesus!)


QG: Here you go. Can I get you to sign it? (breathy)


ME: [quickly sign and hand it over] Here. Can I have my cup? 


I was so stoked to finally be done talking to the weirdo and get some raspberry lemonade but as I was walking out I took a sip and it tasted like shit, so I went back in to pour it out and get some damn diet Pepsi. 


ULTIMATE LESSON HERE- wait 30 seconds next time, hang a louie, not a ralph and get a frozen pizza.

 And since I do not really have any cool pictures to break up that rant, here is one of Reagan practicing contortionism the whole time:

I'm going to get things done today...April fools!

DIE BUNNY! DIE!

Are there roughly hundreds millions of other things I should be doing? Absolutely. Probably one million and one. So, I have decided to whole-heartedly accept my procrastination, by becoming one with the Internet that I browse during ALL of my free time, in order to avoid even the most necessary things like: showering, eating something other than the chocolate bunny I angrily decapitated yesterday and cleaning up the trash strewn about my tiny apartment. The chocolate rabbit was my breaking point. I had reached an epic level of boredom. Poor bunny.

I will explain why there is trash strewn about.

Occasionally, I muster up all this focus to be semi-productive and put most things in there rightful habitats, so that I may feel like accomplishing other things. Such as, going to Trader Joe's, and buying some fucking dog food, for my fucking dog..and maybe a couple bottles of 2 buck chuck merlot while I'm at it (despite the judgmental looks from shit-stains behind me in line.) What?! Just because I'm buying a weeks worth of dog food doesn't have to mean I'm not coming back between now and then. Mind your own stupid business. 

...only to come home and find that she (my dog) has:

 a) macgyvered her way into the pantry (curse you handled door knobs!) where I sneakily put the trash can when I left, adorning our momentarily lovely habitat with filth!!

b) she has fished out the ONLY two things at the bottom of a pretty tall trash can as a surprise for me, on my bed. For example, a really old package of guacamole and a rogue strawberry. She waits for me to walk in the bedroom when she doesn't come to attack me with her crazy "Hi-iMeesedyou!" dance at the door, to gauge my reaction of said rottengiftstainingmymattress!!

 (which she is now occupying..more on how that happened later) 

As if I am going to be all, "Thank you! What was I thinking putting those in the trash? I do need to eat some fruits and vegetables, Reagan. You're awesome."

 Not awesome. Thank god I preemptively bought that wine.

c) If i am lucky enough to remember (or not be running monumentally late to wherever I rarely leave her by herself to go) to put the trash in the pantry, behind the large bag of dog food she doesn't eat, she will abate my punishment to something like tearing the cover off a paper back book or scratching a cd. 

("OH MY LANTA! YOU SCRATCHED MY CD!") <---Please don't be offended I had to do it!

I have ruined her by allowing her to literally come EVERYWHERE with me. Work? Yes. In the car while I'm at the chiropractor? Yes. To the grocery store? Sometimes, but I stopped doing that when I walk there because I tried tying her up like a horse in the movies to a bench but they had not bolted the bench down and she started to drag the bench inside the store to come find me. Maybe you should get heavier benches or just be impressed that my dog has freak strength Smith's!!! I like TJ's better anyway. I get to feel like I am being healthy while I buy my coffee and frozen turkey burgers, bitch!

Any who, that is really all I have to say for now which is really nothing except for a really long list of how I DON'T have my shit together. 

Hopefully I get some readers and with my subsequent blog posts I will explain how I came to be at times apathetic and antisocial to hopelessly shitting rainbows or saving half-dead pigeons. (It still died but E for effort, right?)

Ok.

Byyee.