Reality Check

Is anyone getting the vibe I'm keeping things under wraps? That I'm kind of fluffing over my day-to-day in favor of friendly, easy stuff? If yes, you are invited to the Smarty Party! If not, then my mission was successful but I'm blowing my cover and now you know.

Work is pointless
Relationships are hard
And I've been diagnosed with an Anxiety Disorder

Welcome to November. My work is underwhelming and I feel like I'm getting dumber (I hope it's obvious why I'd shy away from this topic for my internet writing.) I consider myself a talented and driven person, except when I'm repeatedly told NO. If I ever got a YES, I'm sure I would be a more effective and fulfilled employee. If I ever had a to-do list that let me use critical thinking skills, I bet I'd be happier.

Dating is on hold. It's exhausting. It makes me feel like a floozy. It makes it harder to maintain good relationships with my friends, who I actually like. Additionally, Jake is hard to beat. For lots of reasons. Will I get over that? Probably, but for now I'm finding that most guys don't open the door for you (it's just manners people! If you're trying to woo me, go the extra mile.), they don't plan ahead and they like to communicate by drunken text message. Fail. Plus, when I'm complaining about all of that, my friends find out how annoying I am (which I've been trying to keep on the DL for about...my entire life).

And yes, it's been formally explained to me by a medical professional that I am anxious. Too anxious. More anxious than other people, and it's hindering my life. So now we're dealing with THAT.

The WORSE PART* of everything is that my hosiery spontaneously combusted today. More or less. I left my house with black hose intact...by the time I got to work, there was a mysterious hole the size of a quarter on my thigh. An hour later I went to the bathroom, and there were TWO holes in my thigh the size of fists, but my skirt was long enough to cover them. Sitting back at my desk I touched my leg and discovered a THIRD fist-sized hole on the calf of my other leg, which had not been there three minutes earlier in the bathroom. It makes no sense. There are no snaggy items around here. I had to run to the bathroom and throw those nylons in the trash before anyone noticed what a failure I am at wearing non-broken clothing. And I would have included a picture, but it would have involved too much bare leg on the internets. You'll just have to use your imagination. Except don't, you sicko.

I think I should start a professional blog and get rid of this one. Work samples, only! Upbeat and dedicated, only! TMI today.


*WORSE PART = not that bad, #FirstWorldProblems