I am currently in the middle of filling out a “Secret Santa” form for work. I have been stuck on the “hobbies/interests” question for days.
I don’t have any hobbies and I don’t have time for interests. The unfortunate soul who receives my name for Secret Santa won’t have the advantage of easily refering to my list for gift ideas.
To be honest, I can barely maintain my own household. I am actually sort of worried that being a Secret Santa will wig me out, overwhelm me and set me over the edge. I know how I am with remembering people’s birthdays and anniversaries: I suck.
My Secret Santa is doomed
Putting aside the hobbies/interest mind-bender for a moment, I thought I would jot a few thoughts down I have had this week.
1.) Most of my day revolves around a screaming toddler. It is consumed with trying to figure out how I can placate her.
I often wonder what created such a malcontent, but I can’t think of anything specific. Chris thinks she is reacting to the amount of stress I exude; I think it might just be her personality ~ demanding, loud, high strung.
2.) Even though I don’t think that I consume the amount of calories it would take to attain and maintain my current weight, I must. Otherwise, the weight would be falling off.
I can run for miles and miles every day and nothing will happen if I don’t stop eating brownies and chips at bedtime.
3.) It doesn’t matter if I measure every single day. I probably won’t see a change in my waist/hip size. See #2.
4.) On a related note, my weight. Refer to #3 and replace “measure” with “weigh.”
5.) The refrigerator I want for our new house will inevitably cost 2,500.00, or more. There are cheaper alternatives, of course, but my eye will go to the one that is the prettiest, most tricked out, most expensive.
6.) Like the refrigerator, I am pretty sure that the car w/ third row seat that I want will most likely be a Mercedes.
7.) I visualize shaking my 8 year old until his teeth rattle out of frustration every day. It makes me feel better, for a moment, to visualize this because I know I will never do it.
8.) Angelina Jolie is a skinny little bitch and is probably starving. Our visit to the Potter’s wax museum hit this one home.
And Brad Pitt is shorter than I am and looks like a Backstreet Boy. Perhaps it is the artist’s interpretation of Brad Pitt, but from what I understand these wax sculptures are fairly accurate.
9.) No matter what I do or how hard I try to control/manage everything, I will inevitably run out of toilet paper (or money) before the next paycheck.
10.) Dishes are my least favorite chore and there is usually a sink full of them on any given moment during the day.
And normally, I will need to watch an episode of “Hoarders” to get me motivated to mop the floor.
I’m deathly afraid of ending up like some of these people ~ harnessed to the medical toilet in the middle of the kitchen, snoozing amongst the filth of adult diapers. All the while flesh eating bugs are eating away at my toes (recent episode — one that has to be seen to be believed).
I have a feeling that the beginning of a slippery slope slide toward doom is easier than one might think. I have found this out with my weight issue.
“Oh, I’ll just eat the pint of Cherry Garcia,” I said. And, “sure, just give me another helping of spaghetti.”
The next thing I knew, I was wheezing when I climbed a flight of stairs and my feet hurt. Fluffy happened so quickly; I can only assume that filth and flesh eating bugs in one’s house can happen very quickly, as well.
I better get back to filling out my Secret Santa form. I might just leave the hobbies and interests line blank and hope for the best.