I’m almost positive I’m failing at life. At my best, I feel like I’m about sixteen, at my worst, maybe four. I don’t do or have the things that adults are suppose to have or do. I don’t act the way that adults are supposed to act. I still listen to the same music I listened to when I was a teenager, at the same ear breaking decibels and singing at the top of my lungs. I eat like a stoned child, seriously. Who still eats Spaghetti-O’s when they are 34?
I never have spare toilet paper. I never have spare anything. I don’t have a savings account, hell, I don’t even have a credit card. I don’t drive a nice car, I’ve never owned a car newer than ten years old. I still am not sure I’m applying make-up in the correct way. I watch “Teen Mom” religiously. My perfect day involves sleeping until at least noon. I don’t bake well. I still like things pink and sparkly. I’ve been known to have a dance party or forty in the kitchen. I eat raw cookie dough. If my car breaks down, I sure as hell don’t have a way to buy another one. I didn’t realize that C.’s underwear was two sizes too small until he kept abandoning them in random places because they were uncomfortable. C. has peanut butter and jelly more than I will ever publicly admit to. I never have enough groceries in the pantry and am forever running out of milk. I JUST NOW figured out what the big deal is about Twitter (follow me! @dj01103) but I still can’t figure out how to change my name thingie (handel?).
Most of the time I feel like I’m flailing around, trying to figure shit out. I’m a huge dork, and that looks like it will never change. So yeah, total life fail. I hope I’m not the only one.