For the first time in my 20 years of life, I don't have anything to say.
I write this blog to rant, or complain, or tell people how I think I'm living my life. But I'm happy and I'm alive. So what do I even write about now?
Honestly, today I got up at 5:30 after sleeping for 4 hours with no A/C and went to work without showering. Then I drove through Dunkin' Donuts and had a chocolate frosted donut in the middle of a gym while people exercised. After working a double shift(which is still only 8 hours), I came home, thankfully to a cold apartment. I ate and watched Netflix for a few hours, called the carpet cleaners, googled some stuff, and got up again. I cooked meat for spaghetti but then ended up throwing ranch seasoning and Lawry's on it and putting it on a bun. I proceeded to drink 3 Capri Suns and eat Colleen's kettle corn. I threw a handful of Mini Reese's into a glass, yes a glass, of ice cream, and watched the Home Run Derby alone.
I'm two months into a super great long distance relationship that feels like it's already been a short eternity. I have a good job, I'm moving into a new apartment soon, I got a great internship, I watch Friends on Nick at Nite almost every day...
The moral of this ridiculous story is that I'm living my life and my main concern is that at one or more points in writing this blog I have been guilty of thinking I know better than someone else how to live their life. And that's not cool. I would hate for someone to think they know better than me how to live mine. And I'll probably be guilty of it plenty in the future, but at least I'm starting to realize it.
Does this mean I'm growing up?
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