Oh hey. Krista here, on the couch, where my ass has become one with the cushion. And can someone please explain what it is about my chest that makes it so tempting for cats to pounce on it and dig their claws into my flesh? Actually, no. Don't answer that. I've entombed myself in my apartment this week and it's slowly driving me stir crazy. Yesterday I let myself lay on the couch in the fetal position under a blanket all day. Doing nothing. Because there was nothing to do. And yes, I realize all of you at work right now are dying with envy because you'd give anything for a day on the couch in the fetal position. And to you I say: TRY DOING IT FOR TWO MONTHS. It gets debilitating. The prospect of doing this for another month... or two... or five... makes me want to die.
I realize I've created my own prison that I need to break out of. I need a routine. Routine is exactly what's missing in my life. Well, that, among many, many other things. But routine is what gets me in the shower and off the couch and into the public eye. I think I've actually forgotten how to socialize with humans. I need to wake up at a reasonable hour. I need to run first thing. I need to shower. I need to feel like an active part of society. I'm well aware that one day when I'm gainfully employed I will miss these days, and curse myself for ever thinking they were awful. But still. THEY'RE AWFUL. So shut up and don't tell me otherwise or I'll kick your shins.
With my loads of free time I have, however, done a couple fun things. I was recently asked to join a host of other public relations ladies in a new blog called MadGirl PR and recently wrote my first post, so that's fun. And my Twitter pal Carrie asked me last week if I'd write a guest post on her blog, which let me reminisce about the time I stuck my hand in a cow.
ALL FUN THINGS.
I haven't touched my novel in weeks. I didn't give up on it, it's just nice to not feel the pressure of writing 1,600 words a day. Now I can actually take the time to think about where I want the plot to go, and how I'm going to get there. But I promise, you guys will be the first ones to read it. In approximately 2027. Look me up.
I have gotten helplessly addicted to about 17 new shows. American Horror Story. The Secret Circle. Revenge. I actually had to sleep with the lights on the night I watched all 10 episodes of American Horror Story. And yes, I did that. Watched 10 episodes in a night. BECAUSE I CAN. Boardwalk Empire just ended and it about killed me, and Dexter ends next week, and that will certainly kill me, so I need things to fill my television void.
Voids. There seem to be a lot of them in my life at the moment. So I am filling them with naps, sweatpants, television shows and conversations with cats.
Dear lord, save me.