What?

I have no idea what to do with myself in the mornings. Or the afternoon. Or really the evening. I'm trying to wake up between 6-8 am every morning so I can get used to having to be up at 6 on TR. I keep looking at the clock thinking it's going to be much later than it actually is.

I made an egg and some tea. That took no time. I cleaned up the couch. 2 minutes. I scrolled through tumblr and listened to music. I thought I'd been at it at least half an hour. Try closer to 15.

I know lots of people would love to have nothing to do, but I don't thrive under these conditions. I NEED something to do. But my brain stops me from doing much of anything:

I could do laundry. But then I would probably forget about it or run out of time and it would sit in the washing machine for forever and get disgusting.

There aren't enough dishes to fill the dishwasher. I could do it by hand, but then I probably wouldn't have enough hot water for a shower.

I could shower but then I'd just be bored with wet hair for a while.

There is any number of things I COULD do, but most involve me paying enough attention to the task to where I'm not paying attention to the time. Yes, I could set an alarm but that stresses me out. All I am doing then is waiting for the alarm. Running down the clock. This is stressing me out thinking about it all. Shit.

Holiday memories

Today, a thread on LSG brought up some Christmas memories, some of which I shall share.


When I was in 5th grade, we were robbed blind the first week of December or so. Christmas was going to suck balls that year. Tristan really wanted a pair of Adidas shoes for christmas, but those motherfuckers are expensive as hell but she was a tad self-dentered back then, so that didn't matter. She still demanded that she have $100+ Adidases.

She got the knockoff brand with like 5 stripes on the side.

Guess who still has the video tape of her crying about it.

THIS GAL

The video also contains my happy ass getting a Seal cassette tape. That was all I wanted that year, and that was basically all I got. I was so fucking happy.

Another year, Tristan was going through her baby fat stage (5th-6th grade) and that was the only time our biological father saw us in person until she got married at 18. So, every year after the pre-teen visit, he would send her a really large men’s sweater from Alaska (where he lives) to her as a present.

Bastard.

Finally, my parents bought me and Tristan (2 years my senior) the same makeup palette for christmas when I was 10 or so. I am 27 now. I tossed that shit out when I was 17 or so.

Just last year, I spotted Tristan STILL USING THAT SAME GODDAMN MAKEUP PALETTE.

I threw it away for her. I didn't want her eyeballs to rot out.