'Bout time.

I know it's been over a month since I've blogged, but I have a really good excuse... my laptop decided to be a quitter. Not only a quitter, but it was just the most stubborn thing when it came to trying to fix it. It just did not want to be fixed (props to Michael for showing it who's boss). And, obviously, since my laptop is the only form of computer to which I have access, I just could not blog.

I really hate when this whole "monstrous gap between blog posts" happens, though, because then I am just overwhelmed with all of the things I could write about. So overwhelmed that my mind goes into panic mode and just erases everything due to overload anxiety. There is just so much wedged back in there that it can't even conjure up any of it. But I suppose I will just start saying things and see where it goes.

Alright, well, first of all it has been exactly two months today (well, technically yesterday) since I moved in to my new Colorado home. Kinda ridiculous. On the one hand, it seems like forever ago that I pulled up with my mom and Reina, but on the other, everything still feels so new. Like, this whole responsibility thing for example.

I have constructed a chart to illustrate a few of the main differences between my level of responsibility in Michigan vs. my level of responsibility in Colorado.

This may seem like I am making Colorado out to be a killjoy, but that is not the case. The emphasis is more on how ridiculous my Michigan life was. However, as ridiculous as it was, I still became very accustom to that ridiculousness, so now that I am in the real world I sort of feel like a hamster being taken out of Wonderland and dropped in the middle of Tokyo where no one speaks its language and everyone is hustling around doing tons of things and it suddenly has the feeling that it should know how to do those things too, but instead of ever learning how to keep up with the pace of responsibility it learned how to make fire balls and climb really tall things.


As terrifying as these adjustments are to attempt to make, the rational side of my head knows that if I wasn't here, I would for sure end up looking like this guy:

Only hopefully without the mustache, and I wouldn't be a man. 

Still, even though I couldn't be happier to live in Colorado, I still have my moments of intense angst. Some nights I get an idea in my head, and I instantly become infinitely convinced that I will never be satisfied with the rest of my life unless I fulfill said angst-desire. Typically these ideas include finding a good roof to climb onto or an abandoned building to explore or a prank to pull or something as simple as just going for a drive until I run into an adventure. And these ideas always hit at night, and always after the time that I am allowed to be out of the house (midnight). The other night, I really wanted to climb a radio tower. Don't ask me why, I just really, really knew that if I didn't climb a radio tower, I could never be happy again. I ended up pacing in tiny circles in my room for over an hour instead. This is becoming problematic. 

Speaking of problems, now that I am hauling toddlers around, everyone thinks I am a teen mom. Shawn and I went to IHop for breakfast the other morning and I had to bring Lindley with me. You know how you always get those old ladies coming by and adoring small children... well, what do you say when the lady looks at you and goes, "Oh, she is beautiful." I mean, I can't say "thank you" because then it sounds like I'm admitting to being the mom. But I also don't want to make a scene with "SHE IS NOT MY CHILD! I WAS NOT PREGNANT AT 16!" Really, it is just one of those situations that calls for a total face-palm, and that is pretty much all you can do.

And another problem, this whole insomnia thing... it's 5:23am right now and I still haven't slept. Currently I feel as though I am invincible and never need sleep again anyway, but it is amazing how much that feeling differs when I have to wake up after getting about two hours of sleep. Seriously, it might be the worst feeling in the world, I always just want to cry when I have to wake up and know that I won't get another chance to sleep for at least fifteen hours. I then spend all day looking forward to the end of the day when I can go to bed again... only to be hit with a brick wall of frustration and disappointed when I finally do get to go to bed, and yet still can't fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning, if at all. Honestly, I am completely baffled as to how on earth my body still functions at times.

The end.