3 Things I Just Can’t Bring Myself To Do
Look, I take pretty decent care of my teeth. I go to the dentist every six months for a cleaning and rarely have a cavity. But one thing I can’t bring myself to do is floss. Every time I see the dentist he sends me home with some easy-to-use newfangled version of flossing and promises me that it’s not hard and I just have to get the hang of it. No matter how hard I try though, I just can’t. I’ll do it the first night and it will feel weird and awkward. Sometimes blood will come out which is so #dark and perhaps the most intimate thing I’ve ever admitted online, even more intimate than my documented proclivity towards colonics and dick waxing. But, yeah, I blogged it. My teeth sometimes bleed when I attempt to floss which I know is more of a reason to start doing it ASAP but it just ends up scaring me off of it altogether. My sister, who’s a few years older than me, never flossed or went to the dentist and she just spent $5,000 fixing her decaying teeth! Now she says she’s a floss convert and does it religiously. Is that what it’s going to take me to floss? $5,000? Because I really don’t have $5,000 and even if I did, I would rather spend it on a nice leather jacket and maybe a vacation to the Everglades than on someone drilling me. Wait, that sounded wrong. Whatever. I can’t floss.
2. Throw out the month old bottle of green juice in the back of my fridge
Sometimes I go on these “health kicks” which just involve me starting each day by drinking a $10 juice from a place called Liquiteria. I’ll even buy them in bulk (AKA three of them because that’s all I can afford) so I don’t have to walk the four blocks to get it myself in the morning. (Don’t you love my health kicks? I won’t walk places but I’ll spend money and drink juice.) Anyway, sometimes I’m such a colossal failure that I can’t even drink it before it spoils and then I’m just left with rotting non-pasteurized bougie juice in my fridge that’s taunting me saying, “Haha, dumbass. This is what you get when you buy expensive juice instead of like actually exercising.” What’s even more unfortunate is that this happened to me a month ago and I, for whatever reason, can’t bring myself to throw out the bottle of spoiled juice. Every time I open my fridge, I look at it sitting there with its swampy #NotClearOn coloring and want to scream and close the door. WHAT IS WRONG ME? WHY CAN’T I THROW OUT THIS DISGUSTING JUICE? Am I a masochist? Am I essentially cutting myself each time I see the juice? I guess I should ask these questions to my therapist but I think she would just be like “What?” and it would get really silent for a second.
3. Read Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom
I have a nasty habit of buying books that I never end up reading. Especially now considering I have no time for anything, let alone a 600 page book, but I still can’t help myself because there might be that one day off where I feel like feeding my brain good stuff instead of garbage and there the book will be. It’s super embarrassing though when people come over to my apartment and see my wonderful book collection and are like “OMG, I love The Complete Works Of Frank O’Hara! What poem was your fave?” and I’m just like “Um, the one where he drinks a Coke with somebody?” I know I’ll never read his complete works — I’m lucky if I end up reading ten of them!– but here it is, staring back at me. JUST DARING ME TO READ IT. Last week I bought Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom because I felt like I had to read it in order to be a well-formed person but the second I got home I looked at it, assessed its length and was like “Yeah. Never going to happen, bb.”
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Answer phones better than anyone else has answered phones before. Relay messages so brilliant, they bring people to tears. Turn the coffee run into the choreography of Swan Lake. Become best friends with every intern and every underling and every taxi driver you encounter.
I remember taking the pen and notebook from that woman outside the courtroom, flipping to a clean page in the book, and writing, JESSICA IS SAD in big, bold, uncoordinated letters. “My sister is going to be a good writer someday! Look at how nice her lines are!”
To begin, I got totally screwed over in the dental genes department. I was born with a pretty severe overbite and a mouth that was too small.
If this doesn’t become the biggest video on the Internet, then I have no faith left in humanity.