Tuesday, January 14, 2014

I confess!

...which also just happens to be the title of a Hitchcock film that my parents really like.  But I mean this as more of a rando confessions for your Tuesday and less of a, hello catholic priest, let me tell you about this murder I just committed.

Confession 1:  I hate January.  Not like how I used to "hate" my students when they were being psychopaths because I still secretly loved them.  Nope, I straight up hate hate January.  I'm not even entirely sure why.  Maybe it's the weather.  80 degrees and sunny?  Get over yourself, Los Angeles. Or maybe it's the getting back to the old grindstone and it punishing you for neglecting it for so long.  Or maybe it's the ever so severe holiday hangover.  You've just resumed your normal routine after the exhilarating and intoxicating experience of high stakes traveling and ordering that glass of wine on the plane because, why not? you're on vacation and eating candy from your christmas stocking for breakfast but only vaguely feeling bad about it and seeing a whole slew of people you've cared about most, if not all of your life; sharing a space with them again, exchanging familiar joshing and even possibly threats.  It's marvelous, it's exhausting, and it's over. You're home and you're glad but also sad and gosh darn it, you've just got a lot of feeling.  You've also seemed to have forgotten your taste in music after a month straight of nothing but your favorite holiday carols.

Confession 2: I am terrible at keeping secrets.  I am not a spoiler (ahem, not like my sister...) but I really like telling people things, especially if I find these things exciting or interesting or horrifying or even sometimes when I find them plain mundane.  Clearly, I don't have the strictest criteria... Anyways, it's killing me that I can't share some news I found out recently that, if it comes to fruition (which is seeming increasingly more likely), will mean that 2014 will be a much, much more eventful year than 2013...

Are you waiting with bated breath, yet?  Good.  Because I want you to want me to tell you as much as I want to tell you.

Confession 3: I've seen the movie America's Sweethearts maybe twenty times.

Confession 4: I don't really even like America's Sweethearts...

Confession 5: I am thinking about enrolling in an adult ballet class.  I took ballet in my youth and I've always admired the grace and athleticism of ballet dancers.  Plus it would be nice to actually be doing something when I work out as opposed to counting down the seconds until it will be over. Which is what I normally do.  Why can't I be one of those people who loves working out?  Who looks forward to a morning run? The only thing I look forward to in the morning is hitting the snooze button fifteen times and enjoying my half cup of coffee that I take two sips out of and then let get cold and then reheat and then take two sips of and so on and so forth ad infinitum.

Confession 6: I dislike my new water bottle because I have to press a button every time I want to take a sip of water.  It sort of makes me feel like a rodent in a lab experiment, but you know, instead of pressing a button to get heroin injected into my brain, I am drinking water...

Whatever. The analogy still stands.

Confession 7: I'm addicted to Deadliest Catch and I was positively heartbroken when Moses told me that Captain Phil had a terrible reputation for being a reckless dick (No!)

Confession 8: I haven't bought a single item of clothing in over a month.  Or do sunglasses count?  Because if they count it's been...three days.

Confession 9: I've been in a surprisingly good mood recently considering that I will be working for 10 days straight, I pulled a muscle in my leg, and it's January.  But you know, ever the optimist...

Confession 10: I don't think that in my current state (however oddly good natured) I could have rallied to write a post today, if I didn't follow some tired formula.

You're welcome.

1 comment:

  1. What could the secret be? I want to know .... [best Luke Skywalker impression] I care!

    ReplyDelete