So it turns out that having a life is actually so much more difficult and tiring than not having a life.
After gaining so many new friends during the making of one of the shittiest productions of West Side Story to ever grace a stage, I figured my popularity with human beings other than myself would eventually wane.
I was wrong.
That’s why I’ve been so selfishly neglecting all of you lovely people in the past few months. Each of these posts takes several hours to craft (finding the perfect gif is an art form) and it’s not often that I get several hours of down time at once. This week in its entirety will have contained two trips to the theatre, several sleepovers, one choir performance and a weekend at my parents’ home.
I had my first evening of leisure tonight (leisure being laundry and grocery shopping because adulthood is a dick)
…and holy asshole, it was as majestic as a unicorn crapping rainbows.
I don’t even know what to do with myself when I’m at home anymore. I’m like a fish on a bike. No fucking idea what I’m doing.
I’m so exhausted by having a life (first world problems) that even my work ethic is suffering.
Turns out I’m not so functional with only 4 hours of sleep on most nights. Who knew?
Plus, courtesy of Tinder, I’ve been seeing someone.
My past experiences of dating have all involved minimal effort on my part and even less actual time spent in the other’s company. That’s just all I’ve been capable of committing emotionally up till now.
I have been anxiety’s bitch for so long now that it’s bizarre to spend time romantically with someone and not be suffering from some form of psychological insanity.
Turns out I can be a fully functioning human being after all!
Now dating is my bitch!
The only downside of dating like a normal person, is time. Where the fuck did my free time go? Sometimes a person just needs to be a nancy-no-friends for an evening or two.
Plus, now I have to shave my legs every day.
Entirely too much effort. People need to get on board the hairy train so I don’t have to waste all the hot water pretending like I don’t have hair on my delicate, feminine body.
You know what though? That’s life, and I’m living it like a motherfucking boss right now so I can’t continue to pretend that I have a reason to complain about anything other than my shitty case of tonsilitis (fuck you, tonsils).
And on that note, people, I gotta run…
…to bed, so I can sleep. This whole staying awake is beyond me because screw consciousness.