My exhaustion has hit an all time high.
I don’t quite get it, the need to get up in the morning at some god forsaken hour, go into work, go from work to doctors, doctors to work, and work till I am ready to pass out, gym for an hour, rinse repeat. I will admit that in my 30s, it’s interesting because I will say I haven’t done anything completely crazy. I’ve always wanted a tattoo, nope didn’t do that. Never got on a reality show, not that it’s a bad thing.
I mean, think about it this way. Back in the day, I saw Piggy from the Road Rules in Seattle’s Pike’s Place. She looked at me like three heads when I was talking about the brass pig. She just oozed strange. I feel like to a certain extent that you have to be a bit strange to hop on those reality shows. From Real World to Top Chef to Hell’s Kitchen there’s just a tad bit of strange going on.
It’s odd too, I have some interesting story lines milling through my brain. Nothing in comparison to like real writers or anything but just beginning’s of stories. God bless dating your dissertation I guess. I literally am writing this before I eat at like 9pm. I will eat, watch Heroes and go to bed. Rinse repeat.
I’m starting to realize I’m kind of boring. That everyone around me has this fabulous drama and I have nothing. Perhaps that’s more of a good thing than I even realize.