My Wicked Sense of Humor

I come by my wicked sense of humor honestly... both my parents are hilarious, in very different ways. My mother gave me my sense of irreverence. In the '80s there were these bumper stickers that were very popular: "My [ex-husband, ex-wife, boss, etc] is in the trunk." She wanted to get one and then attach one of these to the trunk:

From that point forward, she created a monster. If I ever offend you accidentally, know that I meant you no harm. If you are still offended knowing that, your loss.

at least I'm writing, right?

Here it is, late at night, and I am beating myself up for not getting enough done this weekend. I really need to get out of my apartment if I want to get schoolwork done. Yet, in these moments great epiphanies can arrive.

I am practicing self-flagellation, which includes self-sabotage in the form of not going to bed at a reasonable hour thereby pissing even more time away that could be at least used to rest so that I can be productive tomorrow. I find myself wondering if I will ever figure out how to grow up, pondering about the nature of being a late bloomer and if this is necessarily a bad thing.

I might have also used this moment to see if an old crush was on fb. He is! Nothing like perspective to make you feel better about yourself! He lives on a boat and drinks beer (at least according to his self description.) Phew- I dodged a bullet. I might still be in school and immature (I prefer the term “childlike”) but at least I have made some type of progress in my life.

But let’s not start on “progress” (read: what the heck am I going to do 1. this summer and 2. upon graduation) as that leads me back to my downward spiral that prevents insight.

So begins my daily promise to myself: to attempt to create structure that supports me academically and emotionally. Wish me luck!

I can't help but wonder if my Dad is reading this, shaking his head. Most likely. Sorry, Dad. We can blame Mom. :)