Confessions of a Sad and Pathetic Nature

1. It just took me far too long to log in to my blogger account. That isn't necessarily the sad part, what is is why it took me so long. Typing in my e-mail address went fine up until I got to the '@' symbol. From there I started to type my friends twitter handle (handle? really? what am I, a trucker?). I managed to recognize this was wrong, but could not remember, for much longer than I care to admit, what should come next. Which means, this post almost didn't happen. Scary thoughts, I know. It also means I spend way too much time on twitter.

2. I am physically incapable of  throwing out this jello. The cafeteria at work did not serve lunch today, but had some purchasable snacks on hand for the hungry worker. When we we're leaving, however, they had some of the perishable snacks for free. The cafeteria man was standing right there and offered them to us. My co-worker accepted and I felt she had set a precedent and now I must also, lest I insult cafeteria man. So I grabbed some red jello. I do not want this red jello. But I cannot just throw out this red jello. That would be wasteful. I know that is what was going to happen to it if I didn't take it anyway, but someone else would've been doing the throwing. Not me. I cannot be wasetful. So you can bet I am going to eat this damn jello that I do not even want, and probably be gagging the whole time.

3. This week I have been extremely fidgety. This happens every so often, and I am pretty sure it means my body is reaching a new level of atrophy. It's saying, "exercise now, or no longer be able to lift your coffee mug!" I should probably work out, but instead I'll just stock up on straws. Deteriorating muscles be damned! You can keep me immoble, but you can't keep me down!

4. I am terrified of spiders. I came back to my apartment one night, and found this gargantuan eight-legged atrocity hovering right above my doorknob. I stood at the end of the driveway (so the spider would look smaller than it actually was) for at least a half an hour before working up the courage to do something. Let me remind you it is November, and night's are not particularly warm. I was texting my roommate to see if she was coming home and would save me from this plight, and my phone stopped recognizing that I had fingers that were pressing on the touchscreen -- that is how cold my hands were. Anyway, a frigid half an hour goes by, and I finally sneak up to the front steps, eyes averted the whole time, in order to grab a decaying pumpkin, back away, and then hurl it at our front door. Spider 0, Sarah 1.

Though, how many people get to say they smashed their own pumpkin? Take that, Billy Corgan.