this 'n' that

Sometimes there are words that make sentences; sometimes there are sentences that make paragraphs. Often times those combinations make sense, but occasionally they do not.

This week has been a stream of consciousness kind of experience, one that strings this to that and that to the other.

I got home from work tonight and walked into a messy house. I got on Facebook and noticed all of the pretty, skinny girls spamming my feed. As I glanced around my cluttered home, I felt my well-fed stomach growl. Rather than dwelling on my lack of prettiness and cleanliness, I decided to give myself a pep talk: "Hey, at least you can bake."

So I decided to make strawberries stuffed with a sweet cream cheese and chocolate mixture for the cook out at work tomorrow. I get home to the store without chocolate, so I was off to a good start. I start mixing the cream cheese and powdered sugar and it flies all over the kitchen.

The filling was super, super runny and it tasted weird. Honestly, I think it tastes disgusting. I had asked Anthony to bring me a bar of chocolate so I could finish the strawberries, and in he walks with dark chocolate. This is no fault of his-- no, no, it's mine. I hate dark chocolate. So rather than thanking him, I just make a smart remark about him getting the wrong chocolate.

I feel like a failure. I've had this overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction with myself, otherwise known as sucking at life. You know, it's like... you're living, but you're sucking at it. Get it?

Anyway, I explained to Anthony that I had been Facebook-stalking pretty people and staring at my messy house, and I went on to say that I was upset because my strawberry dessert tasted bad. My pep-talk had failed me! I can't even bake!

Ant rubbed my shoulders and told me that I was a silly monkey. I would normally punch anyone who attempted to say something like that to me, but for some reason I think he's sweet when he says things like that.

The more I sat there, the more I realized that this is really about that, and that isn't even that anymore. I've had some things going on at work lately, and it's made me reconsider a lot of what I thought that I was good at. I feel like the things that I've always had a grip on are slowly slipping away. There's a lot more to that than this, but I guess that's all I know how to say.

Moreover, in a certain number of words, that is all.