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January 1 - January 1, 2022
As soon as I come up with a list of major flaws and bad habits I’d like to change, my brain sees that as a challenge and wants to do all those things even harder.
When I first made my list (I could come up with only seventy, and even coming up with those nearly broke me), it was filled with dumb shit like “breathe through my nose when other people are watching me” and “don’t leave the mayonnaise-covered in-case-I-want-another-sandwich knife balanced on the edge of the sink, just wash it and use it again later, you dummy.”
Sometimes I try to keep a food journal in an attempt to shame myself into making better choices, but then I get all embarrassed and write shit like “six baby carrots” when I really mean “one medium-sized pizza.” And that is counterproductive. Because it was a large.
Brunch is like having a wedding for your breakfast, and if you’re foolish enough to agree to a meal with my stupid friends, better bring your roomiest Amex, because these dudes are always like, “Let’s get a bunch of things and share!”
Mix that all together and pour into a mason jar—so people at work will know how healthy and Pinteresting you are—then stick it in the fridge overnight. Sneak bites while hovered over your desk the next day, spooning globs of extra-crunchy peanut butter on top to mask the feeling of wet boogers on your tongue. Fart all morning. Take a massive shit by 3:00 p.m. Repeat.
But, as many anxious depressives know, some mornings just stepping from the bath mat into the tub is the most taxing thing anyone could ever expect you to do. So I changed this to “take a pill every day,” and so far that is going smashingly.
48. Try to think positively. Can’t. Everything is garbage.
51. Be honest about shit that is overwhelming to me. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. I’M STRESSED, HOE.
