How (Not) to Make Good Life Choices

The weather's up to double digits, you guys.

 #heatwave

There is supposedly a giant monster storm headed my way next week. So...that sucks. I almost want to have kids someday for the sole purpose of telling them I walked miles uphill in the snow to go to school and work. 

Because I legitimately do! There are hills involved in my walk. I have a hole in my favorite pair of shoes. I own a newsboy cap. I am essentially an orphan in the 1930s. 

So...valentines day is coming up.

Ugh.

I happens to be the weekend after my birthday. I plan on going up to Purdue and going to the bars with my friends. It's probably really sad that going to bars is less unhealthy than my usual coping methods. They involve me literally hiding under my bed and eating a pint of ice cream while listening to I Can't Make You Love Me on repeat. For hours.

Eh...I actually care less about the whole perpetually-single thing than I used to. I mean, even if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't know what to do with him. I'd be like, "hey there, significant other! is it cool if we only see each other three days a week or whatever? and when we do see each other, is it okay if I mostly ignore you?" Because seeing the same person every day of the week for hours at a time...ugh. 

That sounds all kinds of horrible. 

Moving on...I made the executive decision last night to not sleep. I had to read, like, twelve court cases for my sociology of law class and write summaries and critiques on them. You know, it would have been fine if I would of started right when I got off work at 9. But I decided that watching a documentary about killer whales on netflix was something that I had to do before I could start. 

I don't know. It wasn't a good life choice. 

But, yes. I didn't finish until like 6 in the AM, so I just didn't sleep. Again, I don't know why I did that. It was another poor life choice. 

When I got home from classes at 1, the coffee wore off  and I just crashed. It was almost embarrassing. I don't think I've ever been as happy to see anything as I was to see my bed after I got home. And when I say I completely crashed, I mean it. I slept for seven hours with my coat, hat, gloves, shoes and backpack still on. 

When I woke up, I was very confused. I didn't know where I was. My scarf was sort of choking me. I was sort of sure I'd been kidnapped. 

I don't know why anyone would want to kidnap me, honestly. I have no money and no marketable skills. Other than my ability to cook stir fry. Someone might kidnap me for my stir fry skills. 

Anyway, speaking of my job...when I get bored at work, I like to do weird stuff with the food in my line. It's not creepy weird, it's just strange. Like, I'll make towers out of country fried steaks or see how many frozen shrimps I can stack on top of each other. 

(My record is five.) 

But, no. Yesterday I built a tiny and adorable little city out of corn on the cobs. Or, erm, corn cobs, I guess is what normal people call them. Whatever. I had my corn on the cob city and it was great. I decided that its name was Cornatopia. And, I don't know, I thought that was really, really, extremely funny. 

I had to go sit down in the store room for a little while because I couldn't stop laughing and it was alarming people. Nobody else could seem to comprehend just how funny it was. Cornatopia. It's just...I don't even...it's so funny! How can you not laugh helplessly about that for like a quarter of an hour?

I'm not the weird one here. 

This isn't the first time my emotions at my job have succeeded at making others uncomfortable. Sometimes, when I cook things that have onions in them my eyes will water. My customers, who are mainly high schoolers, always get really freaked out and try to talk to me about my feelings. 

Sometimes, I tell them about the onions. Other times, I just roll with it and let random sixteen year olds go all therapist on me. 

I am not a good person. 

I am also a person who really needs to go make some circus waffles with my circus waffle maker. You see, I was far too busy sleeping today to eat. So...yes. I'm off to do that. 

Day 181 of College: 3, 2, 1...

Today...


It's almost V-day, people. Signs of it are popping up everywhere. There are happy couples making out all over the place and clubs around campus selling flowers and chocolate like normal people sell crack. 


It's disgusting, really. 


I will, of course, be hiding in my room for the duration of tomorrow and eating all sorts of foods that are terrible for me. Speaking of terrible food, my birthday happened this weekend. 


Guess who's nineteen years single? 


You guessed it. As per usual, it's this girl. 


But, on this Valentines-eve, there is some good news. I've managed to get into what was seriously the last single dorm left on campus for next year. Huzzah!


I'm a terrible roommate. Seriously. I sleep at odd hours. My phone alarm likes to go off when I don't want it to. I sing to my fish. I take up all the room in the minifridge with my greek yogurts. And I'm terribly vain, so I basically live in front of the mirror. 


Next year, no one will have to suffer my idiosyncrasies. Except for my fish. They don't have legs so there's no way for them to run! Ha! 


In other news, I managed to spill some girl's coffee on her, all of her books and three other people today in my Econ class. I'm great. 


I got all flustered and waved my hands like some deranged giant chicken. After apologizing at least 50 times, I ran from the classroom, forgetting all of my books and my jacket in the process. So I had to go back and apologize some more before getting my stupid stuff. 


I'm the worst. 


Anyhow, does selling little debbie cakes count as a "bake sale?" No? That's what I thought. But it didn't stop the "earth-based religions" club from selling cosmic brownies and only cosmic brownies at their Valentine's Day Bake Sale. 


Seriously, earth-based religions club? Valentine's day? More like forever alone day, am I right? Right? 


No...they still get more action than me. Gah. My life is a black hole of suckiness. 


Anyhow, unhappy valentine's greeting from your favorite newly 19-year-old blogger. 


I'll see you all tomorrow. 


Danielle OUT.