It's like that book I read in the 9th grade that said, "'tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people."

Today when I got home from work, Phoebe scampered all around me and meowed really loud and then ran up and down the stairs a couple times and then did a few laps around the apartment and I thought it was because she was excited to see me, but it turns out she was just trying to work up a good twosie. She does this almost every day, usually waiting until I sit down to check my e mail to take a giant poo in her litter box (which is about five feet from my computer). You'd think I'd learn that the only time she is excited to see me is if her food dish is empty, but you'd be wrong.

Yesterday I got the Girl Scout cookies I'd completely forgotten I'd ordered. In the past two days I have eaten approximately 10.8 million thin mints. I have been sitting here for the past twenty minutes trying to work up the motivation to go to the gym WHILE EATING THIN MINTS. The fat girl inside of me is out of control. I briefly considered eating the rest of the Girl Scout cookies left in the apartment but didn't because A) I already feel like I'm going to throw up, B) I think they frown upon throwing up on the elliptical at the gym, and C) Heidi would kill me. You wanna know what else? America's Next Top Model is starting RIGHT NOW and I can't watch it because A) It's TiVoing, B) I hate watching commercials because TiVo has spoiled me forever, and C) Heidi would kill me. Because she's not home and I'm pretty sure if I went ahead and gorged myself on both Girl Scout cookies AND Miss Tyra AND Nigel Barker AND Mr. Jay without her? She would never forgive me.

Today on the way home from work I drove past some guy who was flossing while driving. That is something I've never seen before. For realsies. This entry sucks and I apologize. I'll try to think of some way to make it up to you. Any suggestions? Do you like thin mints*?

*TOO BAD YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM

Hello, Vegas? Yeah, we would like some more alcohol. And you know what else? We would like some more beers. Hello? Oh, I forgot to dial!

February has been a long, strange month. Not necessarily good or bad, just weird. It's OK. I like weird. I got a new job, other stuff happened, good times. Is it weird to say February was long? Because compared to other months . . . it's not. You know? Not TIME-WISE anyway. Yeah, I don't know what I'm babbling about either.

I got an invite to a bridal shower/bachelorette party yesterday. I'm pretty psyched. Not so much about the bridal shower because that will involve a lot of acting like a grown up, but I am all over the bachelorette party. You know, I have five friends who are engaged right now. That is a lot of weddings. Also, that is a lot of wedding dates. I should start recruiting now. Responsibilities for my wedding date include but are not limited to: dancing with me after I am drunk enough to want to dance, getting me drinks, making sure I miss the bouquet toss, picking me up after I fall down, and carrying my heels after I kick them off because I'm tired of falling down. Now that I look at that list, I'm not sure my friends really want me at their wedding. ALSO, if Jake Gyllenhaal or John Krasinski want to be my date(s), they don't have to do any of that stuff. They can just sit there and look pretty.

I also found out that my roommate from college had a baby. A BABY. A tiny lifeform that she is responsible for keeping alive! Scary. I just find it hard to wrap my brain around the fact that the girl who one night got drunk and wandered around the sorority house parking lot wearing one sandal and carrying a trashcan is now a mother. It's so strange that all these people around me are doing grown up things, like getting married and having babies and buying houses. It makes me think I should be doing these grown up things, but I don't really want a husband or a house or a baby. ESPECIALLY not a baby. I like spending my weekends riding mechanical bulls and sitting around in my pajamas watching The Hills (don't judge) and taking long road trips JUST BECAUSE. You can't do those things with a baby. Well, you can probably watch The Hills with a baby, but I don't think it would understand all the drama. I mean, I have a hard time keeping up with all the drama and, while I sometimes doubt my intelligence, I'm going to go out on a limb and say I am slightly smarter than a baby.

blah blah blah, my name is Monday and I hump dogs

I feel really blah today. Can I go home and go back to bed? Please?

I want the house, Jan, I want the picket fence, I want the ketchup fights, and the tickling, and the giggling.

If you had told me that yesterday I would start out the day at work and end it by riding a mechanical bull (twice), I probably wouldn't have believed you. In fact, I'm still a little skeptical.

Good thing there are pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.

In other news, I love my friends.

Why is this so hard? That’s what she said. Oh my god. What am I saying?

I think my early week happy high is wearing off. I feel pretty blah today. I jumped through all the necessary hoops this week . . . I accepted the new job, turned in my letter, told my boss, and now I'm just waiting. I'm not good with the waiting. Instant gratification is really the only way to go. It's weird, though, on Monday I was in a GREAT mood and today I'm all blah. It's like Monday is Friday and Friday is Monday and WHAT KIND OF CRAZY WORMHOLE HAVE I FALLEN INTO?

Last night, Heidi and I accidentally drank a bottle of wine. I say accidentally, but it was pretty premeditated.

At dinner . . .

Me: Do we still have beer in the fridge at home?
Heidi: Yes.
Me: Good, because I need a drink. It was a loooong day.
Heidi: Yeah. Don't worry, we have a whole drawer full.
Me: It may take that much.
Heidi: We could get a bottle of wine.
Me: OK, let's do that.

Later . . .

Me: Whoa! Not much wine left in the bottle!
Heidi: That's why I used the big glasses.
Me: Well, if that's all that is left, we might as well just finish it.
Heidi: Exactly.

TO BE FAIR, yesterday was the day I told my boss I was quitting and then he spent twenty minutes trying to talk me out of it and throwing more money at me and telling me I was making the wrong decision blah blah blah. Also, last night Meredith Grey almost died. That occasion calls for wine (whether it is to cope with the grieving or for celebratory purposes, I'll leave up to you). Heidi told me I was cold-hearted because I said I didn't care if she died. FIRST OF ALL, everyone knows I am cold-hearted. My mom said the reason my favorite character on Grey's Anatomy is Christina is because we are both cold-hearted and emotionally stunted. Or something like that. It was a long time ago so I don't remember the exact words but I think that was the gist. Anyway, I wasn't that worried about Meredith dying because A) she is the main character so they weren't going to kill her off because when shows do that? They end up sucking. See: The X-Files, ER, The X-Files again, and . . . how many times did Mulder die? I have completely lost track of my point so let's move on, shall we? AND B) if they DID kill her off, I wouldn't have to listen to her gravelly-voiced whining anymore.

To be honest? I am much more worried about one Mr. Jim Halpert. I do believe Roy may try and mess up his pretty face and Jim Halpert is a lover, not a fighter. I hope he is also a fast runner.

I know it's just a TV show leave me alone!

so give me your hand and let's jump out the window la la la la la

YOU GUYS! Today is it SUNNY and over FORTY DEGREES OUTSIDE! DO YOU SEE HOW EXCITED I AM?! CAPS LOCK! MEANS! EXCITED!

Seriously, do you know how great it is to walk outside and it's not so cold that you want to cry, but you're afraid to cry because the tears might freeze to your face and even though it'd be kind of awesome to peel long strings of ice-tears off of your face, you think it might also hurt and leave a weird mark so you'd rather not? Did anyone follow that? No? Me neither.

Does anyone else think this whole blogging thing is weird sometimes? Like, today, I spent most of the day at work thinking of Friends quotes to put in my Gmail status box because, um, that's what all other cool kids were doing and when I say cool kids, I mean People of the Internets. Do you guys really exist? I mean, really? I know some of you do, because I went to college with you or I've hung out with you or, hello, I live with you. Or I've seen pictures of you and I'm assuming my brain isn't sophisticated to make all of that up. Or you've introduced me to your friends so I'm assuming if your friends aren't imaginary than you aren't either. But the rest of you . . . are you really there or figments of my imagination? I hope you're real and not just in my head, but if you are, at least you're entertaining. Is anyone following this? No? Me neither.

I got off work early today so I came home, put on my pajamas and started doing laundry. Who else is jealous of my super-exciting life? Don't everyone put your hands up at once. Later I plan on making a salad and chicken for dinner unless I completely lose all motivation and make peanut butter and jelly. Which, ok, does sound really freaking good right now. OK, NOW who is jealous of my super-exciting life and DON'T LIE. You have no idea what kinds of super-exciting things I do all day long except, oh wait, yes you do because I tell you everything. Well, almost everything. Some things I only tell Heidi. Like on Monday? This happened:

Me: Heidi, can I tell you something really gross?
Heidi: Sure.
Me: No, I mean, it is really, really gross.
Heidi: OK.
Me: OK . . .

And then I told her the grossest thing ever* and she barely blinked. I'm not sure what that means. Does anyone know where I'm going with this? No? Me neither.

So I've been listening to the same song over and over for the past three days. I don't know why. When I really like a song I prefer to listen to it all day and all night and if I can't listen to it then I like to have it stuck in my head so I can hum it when other people aren't listening. I can't stop myself. It's a sickness. This is what happens:

Brain: OH MY GOD are you listening to this again?
Me: Yes.
Brain: WHY?
Me: I like it.
Brain: OK. But this is like the 30th time today.
Me: Don't exaggerate.
Brain: I'm not. Actually, I'm being generous. It's probably more like the 70th time today.
Me: Now you're exaggerating.
Brain: Maybe.
Me: OK, just one more time.
Brain: NO!
Me: One more!
Brain: No more, please for the love of the little baby Jesus!
Me: Please?
Brain: OK, it is kind of growing on me.
Me: Ha!

Does anyone care where I'm going with this? No? Me neither.

*Seriously, it was disgusting . . . but funny. I laughed, anyway.

Rule #76: No excuses. Play like a champion!

Do you ever go through phases where you don't feel like the life you're living is your own? Or like you're really dreaming and any moment you're going to wake up and everything will come crashing down? Or that finally, FINALLY, pieces of your life seem to be falling into place and you're afraid to breathe too hard in case they drift away in the wind again? Is it possible to feel all of this at one time? Because that's how I've been feeling lately. Not that things are perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but when are things ever perfect? My major problem is waiting until things seem perfect to make any kind of change, which explains why I don't make changes that often. Because I plan EVERYTHING in my head, down to conversations that NOT ONLY haven't happened yet, but may never happen. Lately, I've decided to say "fuck that!" (exclamation point, very important) and do whatever the hell I want, planned or not, if I think it has even the slightest possibility of turning out well.

What I'm saying is I don't really feel like myself. I feel like a better version of myself. I'm going to turn in my resignation when my boss gets into the office this afternoon and I'm not nervous. At all. I test the butterflies every few minutes by thinking about handing him that letter and they've been quiet, unfluttering, since I got the phone call yesterday. Do you realize how strange it is for me not to be nervous about something? I get nauseous sometimes before making a phone call.

This is all leading me to believe that my body is getting ready to stage some kind of coup, and the moment I hand over my letter I will also throw up all over my boss. What an exit.