Adulting is Hard

Last night, before I went to sleep, I told myself I was going to spring from my bed at 5am, maybe take a nice stroll through my neighbourhood, and eat a sensible breakfast. Instead, I did what I do every morning – I woke up late, surfed the internet (my morning circuit of email, Facebook and Instagram), decided I hadn’t wasted ENOUGH time and added up how much money I’ve spent on McDonald’s this month (over $140!), and left for work with my hair still wet from my shower, nary a breakfast snack in sight. Why do I do this to myself?! Whyyyyyyyyyyy!

This is my life, guys – just non-stop, self-imposed horse shit. Is there a way to lock me out of the Internet for, like, 23 hours a day? Maybe shut down my bank account when I’m tired and hungry to prevent last minute trips to fast food restaurants? Can I hire somebody to shove me into and out of bed at a reasonable hour? Will someone come to my house and move my limbs around in a way that simulates exercise?! Clearly I don’t have the self-control to do this stuff myself. Adult-ing (which, by the way, was my birthday resolution) is hard, and I am failing miserably at it.

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