You’re just not grown up enough, baby.

So I need to be up in seven hours. I’m awake because I’ve got things on my mind. I’ve been putting off thinking about them all day by reading an Honor Harrington book… which is ironic. (you should read one, then you’d get it.)

I was looking at my too doo list today. pay bills, make a list of mortgage companies, create spreadsheet for properties, enroll in medical benefits, roll over 403b, laundry, look up oil change discounts in the Clipper…

well, it depressed me. Like it usuallie does.

Every so often I freak out. I don’t worrie about anything and I save it all up for a twenty minute worrie fest in which I freak about about everything. It’s a bad way to do things. I don’t have a good one though.

I worrie about grown up things not because I hate doing them or because they’re hard, but because in my estimation grown ups are boring and I don’t want to be boring. But a the same time I see those things in myself that make grown ups boring. And I react to it the same way I do with the worrie. I go on irresponsibilitie binges.

SO tonight Timmie and I went to look at a house. and I liked it. REALLIE liked it… I didn’t even want to. But I did. So to make up for it I spent the rest of the evening on the couch reading a book and we ordered a pizza.

The thing about binge irresponsibilitie is that your responsibilities pile up. So theres prollie some secret so you can have fun AND get your stuff done. I should figure it out.


About SleepieBear

Opinions are my own. Facts are poorly checked. (Unless cited.) Use your brains.
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