The internet loves lists. Personally, I think English teachers everywhere should be crucified for not teaching the masses of our generation how to organize thoughts in coherent paragraphs that flow lucidly and logically without a numerical value being the only connection from one thought to the next. Maybe that’s just me.
Yes, yes, I know I’ve been guilty of my own list post, but I’m usually very vocal about my stance that list writing is the lowest form of writing and should be reserved for grocery shopping and keeping tracking of your sexual partners… or… ummm… er… I mean I totally know all my sexual partners off the top of my head. Just grocery shopping. That’s what I meant.
All that being said, I’ve also been known to be mildly hypocritical and to bend rules for my own personal benefit. Even more, sometimes there just isn’t a lucid and logical connection from one thought to the next. Sometimes you go on a five day bender and make a series of seemingly disconnected bad decisions only to realize that the common denominator in all of this is that you are someone who rather consistently makes bad decisions.
So, without further adieu, let me please countdown the Top 10 Worst Decisions I Have Made in the Last 101 Hours. They vary from fairly humorous to slightly reckless to downright masochistic, and I’ve tried to rate them as such, but these things are so subjective that you might have an entirely different take. Feel free to chime in.
10. I’ve eaten like a trucker on death row for the last 5 days. Cookie cake, boudin balls, pizza on a stick, seven POUNDS of crawfish in one sitting, a kimchi burger, elote, Korean cheese fries, pizza not on a stick, Chick-Fil-A spicy chicken sandwich, chocolate chip cookie, an everything bagel with extra cream cheese, Cool Ranch Doritos, a cheeseburger with sweet potato fries, chips and guacamole, an entire box of garlic and rosemary Triscuits, more pizza not on a stick, fried cheese cake, sausage, chocolate chips just by the handful, Tuscan cream cheese dip, lemon-blueberry cake, fried pickles, Dippin Dots, bean and cheese breakfast tacos, and cheese- just all the cheese. Now that I’ve typed that all out, even I am looking at it like it’s got to be a gross miscalculation… but nope; it’s the gospel truth. I’m starting to regret that this blog is anonymous because how will you guys know where to send the ambulance to when my heart stops?
Me: Romeo and I broke up. Wanna get naked and make bad decisions this weekend?
TO: Holy shit yes.
<30 minutes later>
TO: Also, are you okay?
God, I love that kid. I told you he’s always been good for me, even if it’s not always in the most obvious ways. The night after Romeo dumped me, The Overcorrection picked me up at the bar, fawned all over me, brought me back to his place, worshiped my body for the better part of an hour, and promptly had me burst into tears. Instead of being an ass about it, he dropped it.
However, now with a little more distance from this breakup, we went for a round two. We spent the entire night getting busy, getting drunk, and watching That Awkward Moment.
Actually now that I think about it, this shouldn’t have made the list. This was a great decision.
8. I opened the flood gates. I texted Romeo and told him that I missed him, and asked him if he still thought that breaking up was the right choice. He told me that he missed a million things about me every day and multiple other texts that made me giddy with possibility. The only reason this doesn’t rank closer to #1 is that I was obviously getting worse, not better by trying to keep him totally out of my life, so something had to change. It’s like when you move from waiting hours in the airport terminal to waiting hours on the runway; you’re still in a shitty situation, but at least you’re in a new shitty situation so there’s fresh hope that surely this can’t suck as much as the previous purgatory. As I’m typing this I’m being hit by a wave of anxiety induced nausea (or maybe it’s the fried cheesecake) because if this analogy rings true in all ways, being stuck on a runway is infinitely worse than being stuck in the airport terminal… God, what have I done…
7. I shacked up with a friend on Friday. He and I actually hooked up in college, but since then have just been in the same rather large group of friends. Nothing happened this time other than cuddling. This really isn’t that big of deal except that my friend group is rather incestuous and has a tendency to all marry each other, so clearly I’ve been asked no less than thirteen times since then if I thought I could actually see us as a couple. I’ve been going for shock value to shut them up by making the official party line: “No, we slept together nine years ago and he’s about three inches too short for me. Plus the height thing would be an issue.” (If you get that, we should be friends in real life. If you don’t, just keep reading, and I’ll explain it when you’re older.)
Pause–> Just kidding, T. You’re great and your package is just lovely. It’s just not in the cards for us which I’m sure you’re exactly 0% broken up about. –> Play
6. Friday night I was rushing to get ready and had planned my entire outfit around this cute turquoise sweater dress that I have. Turns out the dry cleaner shrunk it, so it was a solid six inches shorter than I remember, but I was running late and decided boyshort panties and keeping my hands by my side would have to compensate. Fast forward about six hours and we’re all back drinking at a friends house where I decide that this short dress was way too oppressive and since boyshort panties are basically like a swimsuit, I had nothing to hide. I would dance my ass off to Shoop if I wanted to. Somewhere around 4:30 in the morning I proceeded to take my dress completely off to prove just how much my underwear was basically a swimsuit. This was both the cause of #7 and the effect of #3.
5. I’m pretty sure I was still buzzed when I went to work on Friday. At the time I thought I was just dehydrated and sleep deprived from the all nighter with The Overcorrection, but in hindsight a large dent of #10 came between the hours of 7:00 and 11:00am that morning.
4. Writing a list post. Ugh.
3. Friday night I opened a bottle of champagne at 4:00am because we were all out of beer and Thunderstuck came on. At the time I thought I was saving the party. In retrospect we should have taken running out of beer to be our sign to go to bed. Instead we took it as a sign that the selfie stick needed to make a third appearance and someone (*cough* me *cough*) should raid the pantry for the garlic and rosemary Triscuits.
2. I agreed to go on a date with Not The One. Yup. You read that right. We ran into each other two weeks before Romeo and I broke up, and he started emailing me. I’ve kept the kibosh on anything happening between us thus far, at first out of respect for Romeo and then because I didn’t have the energy to heal new wounds and open old ones at the same time. But it would be nice to see him again…
Pause–> Reread the title of this post. I feel like you needed a reminder. Play–>
1. What could possibly top all of these little gems, you say? Well, the number one on the list of Top 10 Worst Decisions I Have Made in the Last 101 Hours is… <drumroll, please>
Romeo and I have been texting non-stop. We Skyped for an hour last night. He hasn’t bothered to clarify if anything has changed. I have been too scared to ask what all of this means. I think I might be catching hope again. Fingers crossed it’s just a 48 hour bug and not something more serious.