When I pause, step back, and take a look at what I write, I see that I am a poster child (WOMAN) of hashtag white girl problems. Hashtag first world problems. Hashtag spelling out hashtag. I use up your valuable time to have you listen to me complain about lack of sleep, complain about too much free time, complain about exercising at a gym too often. Yes, the world is bigger than my complaints. Thank goodness.
But I don't want to dismiss my feelings completely. Feelings are feelings and it's best if we allow ourselves to feel them. Acknowledge them. Let them run their course without harming anyone or oneself. You know, cry if you wanna cry. Punch a pillow if you want to punch a person. That kind of thing. Letting yourself feel those crummy emotions opens up the door for you to notice and fully appreciate the exhilarating, purely blissful moments that will, I promise, happen.
Hi, I'm Meg and recently I've become a self-help guru??? I say that mockingly, of course. I ain't no self-help anything, although I've sure sounded like I'm trying to be one recently. Here! Let me spout of some wooey wooey crap you've heard two dozen times before (and more eloquently stated). Two dozen times? So you've heard these platitudes 24 times? That, folks, is math without paper. Did the addition in my head. Oh well. If you love me, you'll love ALL of me -- and that includes my preachy, wooey wooey craptastic side.
Yeah. I'm just so so so so tired. I don't know why I'm even forcing myself to blog. Maybe because I feel like I can't do anything recently except for blog, binge on books, and bake bread? Yeah. Maybe.
I think I'll go watch some reality TV and drink a Fresca. And who knows? I might be ambitious and whip up an omelet or three. There's no telling what surprises this Tuesday night holds. Peace out, fellow ghouls. Keep feeling all of the feels, you hear me? xoxo
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