note to Self

it's noon and i just got up. i have missed all the applicable classes at my gym. my room is still not clean. the ice cream that we have been keeping on the conveniently frozen flower box due to lack of fridge space has had a fatal encounter with sunlight.

this cannot continue.

in future, Self must: wake at a reasonable hour and actually get up rather than lay dozing and thinking about things that should really not be considered until actually trapped in bed by strategic placement of 16lb cat. use this new time to go to gym. keep house (and, metaphorically, life) from reaching current state of untidiness. spend significant part of free time in pursuit of wisdom, knowledge, and a graduate program. spend more time talking to people within slapping distance than to those who are so far away as to be practically imaginary. leave house for purposes other than food and work. do so without spending money self does not have. and, oh fuck it, let's go completely bridget, "do not sulk about having no boyfriend. develop inner poise and authority and sense of self as woman of substance, complete without boyfriend, as best way to obtain boyfriend."

have you ever noticed that if you look at it long enough, the word self begins to look like it belongs to some sort of norwegian garden gnome and loses all connection to you?