I start every day by drinking a Diet Pepsi. If I don’t, the day feels fucked. When I run out, it’s like the fucking apocalypse around here.
I can’t see a cat without baby talking and/or meowing to it.
When I was growing up, we lived across the street from a small farm, which had a ton of stray cats. We used to have feral cats and kittens in our yard constantly. I would try to catch the kittens so I could play with them. I got scratched up quite a bit as a child because of this, but it never stopped me from trying again. I’d probably still try even now.
You know how they say that nobody is as happy as they make it seem on social media? One of the things I really love about Tumblr is that you get the good stuff with the bad stuff. It seems more truthful and authentic. I hate Facebook because it does seem so fake, and I don’t go on as often as I once did. However, it has been way more pleasant since I un-friended like 25 people and hid a bunch of others. I only have like 104 friends currently. I like keeping a small friends list. Only people I actually know and talk to somewhat regularly. Anyway, this “fake” concept is one of the many reasons I try to be genuine in my blog.
I’m really clumsy/uncoordinated. I always have been. Yesterday morning I dropped a jar of facial cleanser on my foot while showering and now there’s a big black bump. My legs typically have bruises on them from running into stuff. I can’t ice skate or roller skate without hanging onto the wall. Skiing is an epic disaster. I’m still amazed I was able to walk around a mountain on snow shoes without killing myself. Though there were some close calls, and I did slide down the mountain quite a bit. It was so much fun though.
On the last day of our Iceland hike, we ended up having to go back a different way than we came, which happened a lot because all of the trails were completely covered by snow. We had to go one by one, sideways, along a snow covered cliff. The snow there was too soft and my feet kept sliding. There were times when the only thing keeping me from falling into the icy river directly below was my grasp on a flimsy tree branch. I was so scared. I remember telling myself: you didn’t survive cancer to fall off the side of a fucking mountain. Get it together, girl. With the guide’s help, I made it across, and then I sat down on a rock and started laughing hysterically. The rush of adrenaline after an experience like that is intense. The euphoria was incredible. I now understand people who do extreme things just for the rush. I see how it could be addicting. I’m already wanting to plan our next “extreme” vacation.
It’s only one hour, and yet it has thrown everything off. I feel super tired. It’s dinnertime, but I’m not hungry. Despite feeling exhausted, I’ll have a hard time getting to sleep tonight b/c it won’t feel right. This will last for at least a week. I kind of hate DST. I know why it exists, but I’d love to see it abolished.