Confessions

• I think that I am having a full-on third-life crisis. What other excuse is there for being down-and-out obsessed with a 17-year-old pop singer with a song called Tennis Court--about going down to the tennis court and talking it up like YEAH (yeah)? That's right, there isn't any other excuse. I'm having a crisis. 

• I find myself mimicking accents back to people who have them. This does not bode well for speaking with my British coworkers. I can't bloody stop! 

• I fear I am too old for Snapchat...it takes longer than 4 seconds to focus my eyes on that random comment you scribbled across that blurry photo.  

• I really love sitting in the portion of the bus that swings back and forth when you turn corners. It kind of feels like a theme park ride on my way to work. (I am such a nerd.) 

• I avoid medications like the dickens, so I've never had to titrate any meds to get the dosage right. I know this is the right decision because I'm pretty sure that there's about an ounce of a margin in my coffee intake that moves me from sufficiently energized and "can-do!" to manic and slightly reckless. 

• I know, I know, I know, I know. I'm going to regret saying this when my feet are numb at the bus stop in February, but today is the day that I proclaim that I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS HEAT.  

• I have had 20-minute conversations about hair with three different co-workers within the last two weeks, and I find this perfectly reasonable. If you ever want to gab about hair, I'm your girl. Just be warned that, like just about everything, I have a lot of opinions about hair.