Greasy like Sunday morning…

I called a Lyft to take me to Federal Donuts.

I think I just got fatter.

Adding this to my resume

Y’all. I am GREAT in bed.

Not sexually, I’m just really happy to be here.

“My Body is a Dumpster Fire” works just as well as “Wonderland.”

Once in a while I have to play a little game with my brain called, “Sick, Exhausted, or Depressed?” because I have a hard time knowing the difference.

This game is EXACTLY as much fun as it sounds.

Turns out depression can look a lot like laziness, which sucks when you are, in fact, ALSO lazy. Spending my Saturday night differentiating my lethargies? AWESOME. *humming club beat*

Jesus just cockblocked my lazy day

I took a couple days off, trying to alleviate some work burnout, and put myself on the waitlist for a popular class at my gym tonight. I figured if I got in, that was Jesus telling me to get off my ass and leave the house, and if not, clearly He’d prefer I stay home and watch comedy shows.

They just emailed me that I got in, and godDAMMIT, Jesus! This is why I’m not religious!

Ugh. FINE. I’ll do something “They” claim is good for mental health — fucking hippies tryna thwart the part of my brain that’s perfectly content being fat and depressed, thankyouverymuch. 🙄

Must…love…dogs…

“We have to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because we LIKE the friends we’re seeing today!”
“They have plenty of people coming — who’d even notice?”
“There might be men there.”
“Eh. Dying alone is fine.”
“There’ll be a dog who likes to snuggle.”
😯 “WE RIDE!

Depression: Brought to you by Massengill

I’ve had numerous discussions with multiple mental health professionals about this, but I still can’t tell if I’m depressed or just lazy. They look the same on me, which is why I have a hard time even saying I have depression, because, like…if you have the option, why are you not still in bed right now? Everyone I know would choose this. Bed is amazing. And depression is a douchebag loiterer.

I’m not lazy, I’m PROACTIVE.

Eating cereal from the box so I won’t have to wash a bowl. #TheRealBachelorette

iTherapy

I just had therapy via FaceTime, sitting in bed, still in pajamas, with bedhead, no bra, and fuzzy socks, because America is amazing.

I won’t do it often, because I think my discomfort at being trapped in an office with a psyche ninja helps me share, but it’s a nice option to have.

My soulmate fills me with warmth and hope.

For a moment I thought, “I miss having a spouse-like device to make me coffee on lazy Sundays.”

But then I remembered my coffeemaker can be programmed to start automatically, so I’m going to marry it. 

Registry information to come. 💕☕️💍

Freedom of Information (to not) Act

My plans for today got canceled, so now I’m high on my freedom to sloth about and not be human again until Monday.

*glaring at bra drawer* Not today, Satan.