The granola bar I’m eating tastes the same way that a hamster smells. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
This, of course, has absolutely nothing to do with anything related to this blog. In fact, I’m only eating this because tonight’s finale of the always amazing Doctor Who played with my emotions in the worst way because Steven Moffat is the son of Satan and I just can’t cope with what he put me through with that episode. Son. So many emotions. The freakin’ feels. I can’t even go into what just had me screaming with fangirlish giddiness and shouting obscenities at my computer screen because, well
But, listen. It was great and I’m going to subject myself to the torture when it premieres here in the US in about an hour.
So anyway, I’m eating, or at least I’m trying to. I’m not quite sure what’s going on in my mouth right now. I mean, the package says that it’s a peanut butter granola bar, but all my brain is registering is that the scent emanating from the back corner of every kindergarten classroom in America is dancing across my tongue. My taste buds and I are confused. What the hell, Nature Valley?
Actually, what the hell, Moffat? This is all your fault.
Ahem. Moving on.
If you’re one of the three people who regularly check this blog you’ve noticed that I haven’t updated since I posted the recipe for those awesome brown butter blondies back in March. Why haven’t I decided to post anything? Well. That’s a bit complicated as there isn’t one specific answer.
Long-ish story as short as I can possibly make it:
I sorta kinda had a(n almost) quarter-life crisis. This was brought on by a spike in my OCD and the fact that I let it slip two of the students I tutored last semester graduated and now my mother refuses to understand that if and when I go back to college I won’t be doing it while I live in Michigan. Add her constant cries of “You should have graduated by now. DON’T YOU WANT TO MAKE SOMETHING OF YOURSELF, LAUREN ELIZABETH?! JEEZUS, CHILD, YOU’RE BETTER THAN THIS” to the stress of mediating the back-to-back and ever annoying crises of my friends and other assorted peers while more or less ignoring my own issues and boom. You have a perfect batch of “Oh, Dear Gawd, What Is My Life About Right Now?”
(For best results serve warm with ice cream and vodka.)
I was close to another annoyance driven breakdown and I needed a break so I stopped taping episodes of LauRen, Fix My Life and—much to the chagrin of three quarters of the people in my contacts—turned my phone off. I neglected my blogs, took frequent breaks from social media and other forms of interaction and, for the first time in a long time, I slept for more than three hours a night…for the first week, at least. It didn’t take too long until I was back to my night owl ways, but dammit, the sleep that I did get was magical. Not having your phone go off from constant crazed and tear filled phone calls and text messages is the best sleep aid next to Nyquil, yo.
I finally caught up on my reading, checked out music outside of my main genres of underground hip-hop and R&B, fell in love with Theo Katzman, because really. How could I not? And then I did a whole bunch of other stuff that we’ll discuss at a later date because Doctor Who is coming back on…so, yeah.
I promise it won’t be months before I post again. Bye and stuff.