...Remember Me?

I cannot believe how long it's been since I last blogged. It's horrible.

This is me trying to keep track of my life.

In the last month, I have been getting accustomed to my new job, I have officially moved, spent a week (yes, WEEK!) without internet, washed more dishes/pots/pans/appliances in my new place than I care to count, and fallen asleep pathetically early during the week, only to go back to my parents' house every weekend to pack up all my stuff, attend Christmas parties, and continue on my path to the proverbial Loony Bin.

Whew.

I'm exhausted.

The holidays have completely suprise-attacked me. I am no where near as decked out in Christmas decorations at my new digs as I'd like to be, and I feel like I do not, and will never, have enough time to decorate before, you guessed it, I make the trek back home for Christmas.

It is for this reason that I have decided I need an unpaid personal assistant intern. He or she would need to feed my coffee addiction while keeping me headed in the correct direction, keep my schedule straight, and go grocery shopping for me (because honestly, it is not fun to live on a college diet of pizza and Ramen noodles anymore. It was fine before I had my dishes unpacked, but this is getting unreasonable).

And so help me if I have to make one more trip to Target to get a random assortment of things I can't seem to remember to write on my ever-growing list. I mean, come on, why do I keep forgetting to buy trash bags?! Wal-Mart bags are only going to work for so long until I get irritated with going to the dumpster every other day because the bag is full.

Ay.


As I look at the clock, I am realizing that I am in my 20s and thinking "gee, it's getting kind of late"...and it's 8:00. Must remember to negotiate a mandatory nap time meeting at work. Maybe after HR just laughed when I proposed my personal intern idea, they would go for this one. I'd consider it a Christmas miracle.

Anyone else feel blindsided by the calendar this year??

Cleaning Casualties

A horrible, awful, terrifying thing has happened just now. You're lucky; you're the first to know.

I've just sustained my first injury from cleaning out my closet. I managed to chip a tooth.

How, one might ask, does someone manage to chip a tooth whilst cleaning out a closet? I remind you that I am incredibly, impressively accident prone. I constantly amaze myself at the odd injuries I bring upon myself, from a nasty concussion after running on a football field to a large gouge taken out of my leg during a "friendly" game of tag.

So here's the story. I had only just begun to clean this portion of my room when I decided a few things could fit on the top shelf. They happened to be posters from my college years that I intend on framing later (they're the classy, black and white photo types, so they'd work well in an entertainment room), but for now, they have been rolled up quite efficiently. I was fairly certain that I could maneuver the poster around a particularly large water bottle I received as a party favor from my senior prom in high school (I know, I really should get rid of that, huh?).

I had just begun to think I had secured the posters behind a few boxes (and the water bottle) when all of a sudden, CRASH! In a completely uncoordinated, bumbling moment, I knocked the water bottle from it's spot on the shelf and attempted (and failed miserably) to catch it using my elbows as my hands were still holding the posters in place. The bottle plunged down from the depths of my closet and found it's target: my two front teeth. I was left swearing (sorry, Mom!), gripping my mouth, and bleeding. Further investigation revealed it wasn't my lip that was bleeding as I had originally thought (though it was throbbing to the beat of my heart), it was, in fact, my gumline. 

A moment of panic ensued in which I had convinced myself my teeth were about to fall out, only a handful of years after my entirely embarrassing braces were removed. Thankfully, they did not fall out, though there is a small chip on one of my teeth near the gumline, which will probably go unfixed as it is apparently completely imperceptible to others (my sister didn't believe me, she thought I may have walked into a door...), but I will know, and oh how I will despair.

That's the last time I clean my closet. Or at least I'd like to think so.