I actually have no idea why I titled the post the way that I did. I'm currently wearing sweatpant capris and my 80's lovin'-exercise sweatshirt but that song is just on repeat in my head and well...there you go.
I'm pretty sure my life imploded within the last week. If you've been calling me (Scott, Beth, lady I sit for from my daycare...oh and my mom) and I haven't been answering or calling you back it's because I physically can't bring myself to talk anymore during the day. I've literally reached maximum capacity. My mouth is DARING my head to open up for yet another conversation just so when it does it will gain psychotic control and curse out at whichever unsuspecting soul is on the receiving end and is all "why did you just call me a rat faced goat farmer?" and my only explanation will be "I told you. I can't talk anymore. My mouth is psychotic. I shouldn't have answered the phone."
Really, I'm doing you all a favor.
There just gets to be a point in your week that you've undergone so much change it's exhausting to even think about any longer.
These past few days I moved back to Kalamazoo, into a house I've never lived in, with people I've never lived with, eating chicken I'm very unfamiliar with. I've started a job I don't really understand, am doing homework for brand new classes and Beth gave me two wonderfully new cd's and even that has me all clusterfucked up. I literally looked at the television I currently have on buzzing in the background this morning and said OUTLOUD LIKE A PSYCHOTIC PERSON WITH A PSYCHOTIC MOUTH
"It's weird to be able to see the whole screen when I'm laying down. My tv at home isn't like that...." and then *click*. I turned it off. Because it was different. And my mind simply cannot handle another iota of different at this time.
Not to say it's all bad. On the contrary. I love the house I'm living in. I love the family I'm living with and how freaking courteous they are of me and my space and I love having my own bathroom! I love the teacher I'm interning under...she says things like "Holy Canoli" and really, what's not to love about that? Classes aren't hard...sure they're new and different but not hard. It's just all very...different. No one is screaming at me about pants that got thrown in the dryer. Three 90 pound animals haven't tried to eat my new work shoes. No one's watching Judge Joe Brown. Have I mentioned the word "different" enough times yet? Are you getting the picture? I DON'T HANDLE CHANGE WELL.
DIFFERENTDIFFERENTSHMIFFERENTIWANTMYMOMMY.
So please, if you will,give me a while to adjust and I guarantee it will only be a matter of days before I share with you the wonder that is teaching ninth grade English. Also, please expect me to start using phrases like "Holy Canoli". OH and "Cat's Pajamas" because this lady is full of shit like that and I can't get enough.
