1. I don’t know how to invest my money. I have money, but I don’t know what to do with it. So I put it in savings accounts or I buy things like jewelry and skincare and denim jackets because I don’t know how to take money and turn it into more money. Which I feel like is something I should know how to do. But I also find it very tedious and boring to think about so I do the bare minimum. It’s frustrating and childish and I need to do better. But I just rented an AirBnb for a week in New York so clearly, it’s not going to happen today.
2. I’m a compulsive nail biter. I remember first biting my nails in first grade. My mother was horrified and put that bad tasting polish all over my fingers. It stung in the sections I’d chewed off. But it hasn’t stopped me. It’s more soothing to me than a 5 PM gin and tonic. I hate the way my hands look but I’m completely addicted to biting my nails.
3. I’m addicted to therapy. Likewise, I’m addicted to therapy and trying to fix myself even though at the core I genuinely believe I’m pretty unfixable. When I’m not at therapy I’m making notes for what to talk about AT therapy. I bring up therapy to everyone. Including first dates which you know, is super charming. Maybe they will make a Lifetime movie about me. ‘The Unfixable Blonde.’ Hopefully a Fanning plays me. That’d be nice.
4. I hate putting away laundry. So it all just gets piled up on either my desk chair or my futon and eventually spills out onto the floor. All of the clothes are clean – just not put away. It’s so fucking stupid and I could avoid it if I just spent 10 minutes putting away the clothes I spend too much money on. But here we are.
5. I love attention. Like love attention so much sometimes I put my health and sanity on the line in order to get it. It’s pathetic and risky and makes me completely insecure for admitting. But you know what it also is? True. It’s so so true.
6. I never feel like I’m good enough. Like ever. And I don’t think I ever will. Maybe life is just one big marathon where we chase the unobtainable “huzzah, you have reached an elated sense of accomplishment” moment. But the sick joke is we’ll never get it and we’ll never be satisfied. If my 27 years of existence are any indication, we’ll be running forever.
7. I have both frown lines at laugh lines at 27. I wish you couldn’t tell anything about me by looking at me.
8. If someone promised to pay attention to me for a week if I paid them $50, I’d probably do it. *waits for the venmo requests*
9. I constantly compare myself to my friends. So-and-so writes a beautiful essay? I immediately try and one-up her. Another posts a ridiculously hot selfie where her abs are coming in? I drop to the floor and do 100 crunches and vow to never eat bread again. My friends get engaged and buy a house and so I try to figure out how to accomplish something at work that they can’t touch. I don’t know how to just be. And what scares me is if I’ll ever want to.
10. I’m not happy for other people. Like, I probably AM…but it’s coupled with intense jealousy. Me being happy for other people is always mixed in with at least a good 25% jealousy over the situation and wishing it was me instead. What can I say? I’m very fun and chic and chill.
11. I don’t walk my dog enough. My dog lives with me in a city but used to live in the mountains where she would run through forests and swim in an actual river 5 blocks from my house. Now we walk around on concrete and run up and down the steps of a stadium. And in removing her from a picturesque existence to come to a big city, I feel like I’ve kind of failed her.
12. I’m judgmental. I judge anyone and everyone. They aren’t usually like, big judgements that completely alter how I look at someone…but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that happens every now and then as well. So yeah. I’m opinionated and judge people. And maybe that makes me a bitch. And maybe I care more than I let on.
13. I Facetune. Every single photo.
14. I binge eat. Usually alone. Almost always in bed. And it’s never as fun or as quirky as my tweets make it sound.
15. I am bored with and by a lot of people. And I think that means I’ll probably be alone which really freaks me out. But I try not to dwell on it too much so I tweet about it instead to again, make it seem funny and quirky.
16. Sometimes I think about being a basket case again just so that people think I’m exciting. And that’s a really, really warped, dangerous, potentially devastating way of thinking. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering if everything would be more exciting and glittery and just better if I allowed myself to spiral over and over again. And even just wondering that kind of makes me spiral in my own way.