Anxiety is a debilitating disease. Its irrational and dysfunctional and takes pieces of you away from yourself. Some people deal with it their whole lives. With others, like me, its a symptom of another illness.
Today has been a day of cleaning and maniacal laughter. Basically, anxiety turns me into supertweaker without the use of illegal drugs!! Just the fun ones my doctor gives me. If it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all ... (this is what happens when I get my supertweaker powers and blog while listening to Motley Crue)
Anyway, I completely dismantled my stove and sanitized it. Cleaned all of my counters, washed all of my dishes, baked a cake, decorated said cake with Winnie the Pooh sprinkles, read way too many classic movie star bios (my husband will be SO excited!!) and taught my beagle how to dance. (Note: Sammy loves to dance however he does not especially appreciate being dipped) Had a date with a friend but he forgot but its ok because now he owes me a super awesome double banana split. Which I definitely plan on collecting in the very near future. As long as he doesn't forget... I'll just get one myself and send him the bill. The he gets double screwed cuz not only did he miss out on my company and a delicious banana split but he also has to pay for it. That's what you get for ditching me, Cameron. :p
Sooooooo back to the main point, (can you go back to a main point after banana splits?) At any rate, banana splits are awesome, anxiety is not. My shrink once said "What's so bad about anxiety? Is anxiety going to kill you? Is the world going to end because you're having a panic attack?" Fuck you head shrinker. And fuck you blogger for telling me "shrinker" is not a word. Cuz it is if I say so. Why does he have to make everything sound so logical? Its like he gets paid to make sense! And now I really want a banana split. Its all your fault Cameron. Do they deliver banana splits? If not they totally should. I would be their best customer.
So all day I've been concentrating my supertweakeranxiety powers on being productive and now its backfiring. I still have far too much energy and since I did such a good job cleaning earlier I have jack shit to do. Except blog about banana splits and anxiety. And its about 80 degrees outside and I have a 23 pound lap warmer because Samuel L Jackson has a cold and like most children he wants to be all sweet and cuddly and kick my laptop off my lap and demand affection. He needs more drugs....Now blogger is trying to tell me "demand" isn't a word either. Wtf blogger? Are you mentally challenged? Or do you need to take your meds too? Except the second time I wrote it it didn't get all highlighty but it did with "time". And yes I know highlighty isn't a word. Kick rocks, spell check. Who needs you anyway? YOU'RE GIVING ME ANXIETY!!!
I think now would be a good time to start up my Marilyn Marathon. How can you have anxiety while watching someone as sweet and brilliant as Marilyn Monroe? Oh, wait, I know!!! Half of her freakin characters have some sort of disorder. Fuck. I'm really not sure how to end this but I need to because I'm having an identity/anxiety/wtf crisis.
Especially since I opened Google yesterday and the first thing that popped up was "You're name is Galloping Gertie! How many furlongs are you?" WTF????? I have furlongs? Wtf is a furlong anyway? Thanks, Google. Identity crisis magnified. Your mission is accomplished.Today has been a day of cleaning and maniacal laughter. Basically, anxiety turns me into supertweaker without the use of illegal drugs!! Just the fun ones my doctor gives me. If it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all ... (this is what happens when I get my supertweaker powers and blog while listening to Motley Crue)
Anyway, I completely dismantled my stove and sanitized it. Cleaned all of my counters, washed all of my dishes, baked a cake, decorated said cake with Winnie the Pooh sprinkles, read way too many classic movie star bios (my husband will be SO excited!!) and taught my beagle how to dance. (Note: Sammy loves to dance however he does not especially appreciate being dipped) Had a date with a friend but he forgot but its ok because now he owes me a super awesome double banana split. Which I definitely plan on collecting in the very near future. As long as he doesn't forget... I'll just get one myself and send him the bill. The he gets double screwed cuz not only did he miss out on my company and a delicious banana split but he also has to pay for it. That's what you get for ditching me, Cameron. :p
Sooooooo back to the main point, (can you go back to a main point after banana splits?) At any rate, banana splits are awesome, anxiety is not. My shrink once said "What's so bad about anxiety? Is anxiety going to kill you? Is the world going to end because you're having a panic attack?" Fuck you head shrinker. And fuck you blogger for telling me "shrinker" is not a word. Cuz it is if I say so. Why does he have to make everything sound so logical? Its like he gets paid to make sense! And now I really want a banana split. Its all your fault Cameron. Do they deliver banana splits? If not they totally should. I would be their best customer.
So all day I've been concentrating my supertweakeranxiety powers on being productive and now its backfiring. I still have far too much energy and since I did such a good job cleaning earlier I have jack shit to do. Except blog about banana splits and anxiety. And its about 80 degrees outside and I have a 23 pound lap warmer because Samuel L Jackson has a cold and like most children he wants to be all sweet and cuddly and kick my laptop off my lap and demand affection. He needs more drugs....Now blogger is trying to tell me "demand" isn't a word either. Wtf blogger? Are you mentally challenged? Or do you need to take your meds too? Except the second time I wrote it it didn't get all highlighty but it did with "time". And yes I know highlighty isn't a word. Kick rocks, spell check. Who needs you anyway? YOU'RE GIVING ME ANXIETY!!!
I think now would be a good time to start up my Marilyn Marathon. How can you have anxiety while watching someone as sweet and brilliant as Marilyn Monroe? Oh, wait, I know!!! Half of her freakin characters have some sort of disorder. Fuck. I'm really not sure how to end this but I need to because I'm having an identity/anxiety/wtf crisis.
Love, Galloping Gertie
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