- Cooking. I just don't. It doesn't make much difference if I'm supposed to want to be cooking or whatever. I just don't. I throw my hands up in the air and drink some tequila and then go watch I Am Love or Mostly Martha and fantasize about feeling that way again.
- Working it out on the dance floor. This is the part where the record breaks down/ yadda yadda yadda/ I just don't want to get dry-humped on the dance floor because I'm boss at shaking my money-maker while the chick who's actually with the dude who's dry-humpin' me stares daggers at me and I am trying to keep my no-barfight-free lifestyle intact, okay? Plus when that one guy was "dancing" with me and I could feel him getting kind of hard and All The Drunk Overly Aggressive Peoples. Probably just gonna work it out on the dance studio and give everybody a fake name at da club whenevers I get talked into going. Anastasia Beaverhausen? That work?
- Calling my brother. Sorry, bro. I love you I just don't know when a good time to call is. Maybe we should just rekindle the relationship we had were he'd text me at 4 AM.
- Sleeping. Haven't we all been going through something lately? And isn't that something constant daylight? Yes and yes. I've also been having twilight dreams and waking up every few hours, having trouble getting to sleep initially, unsettling dreams, etc.
- Dieting. I'm not sure what changed (five weeks off the wagon?), but it's been hella hard to get in the habit of monitoring my food intake. Some moderate success with reducing alcohol consumption. Very moderate.
- Venting about my "personal" life to real-life people. You know. Even when given the opportunity, being hinted at broadly and given the Kristen Wiig eyes, I can't seem to do it.
Querent: So, Clara. How have things been going lately?
Me: ....
Querent: Anything new? Anything you'd like to talk about? How's [significant other's name]? How are the two of you doing?
Me: Um. You know. Good. Pretty good. Things are happening.
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