Manic Mondays: I Bet You Thought You’d Seen the Last of Me

So, I’ve taken a little break from blogging. That’s pretty obvious.

And the truth is, I just wanted to enjoy my time at home with my friends and family during the holiday season. After a whirlwind of food, drinks, and sleeping in until noon, though, my break is slowing coming to an end. As a result, I’ve decided to get back to blogging in attempt to bring some sort of structure back into my life.

Also, I ran into an old friend the other day who complimented my blog and I did feel a pang of guilt knowing that I had abandoned my online journal for a month now (okay, it’s been more than a month… sue me).

First off, I DON’T EVER WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL. I love my friends, I love my college, but the comforts of home (my bed, my cat, my mom giving me her Discover card to go grocery shopping…) are just too appealing to want to leave behind. However, I know I’ll be physically forced to leave in about a week and a half if I’d like to, ya know, graduate, so I should probably make the most of it.

Which brings me to my main point: positivity. It’s officially 2015 (hurray!) and we’ve all grown accustomed to the “New Year, New Me” vibes that seep into our lives as we ring in the new year. And you would think as an over-thinking, somewhat cynical brat (for lack of a better, more appropriate word) that I would be repulsed by these type of hopeful resolution-ers, right? But, for some reason I feel the exact opposite.

I recently posted this on my Instagram (mostly because my thoughts couldn’t be shoved into 140 characters):

And I really mean all of that. Who has the audacity to make fun of or be annoyed by someone who is trying to better themselves in the new year? Of course, many of those people will have a cheeseburger this week, or stop going to Zumba by, like, January 19th, but who has the right to put them down for trying?

So, as I said above, I fully support all your resolutions and goal-making, regardless of how corny they may seem. Heck, maybe I’ll even try to cut fast food out of my diet completely. Not likely… I’ve been craving some McNuggets like no other lately.

But, you still get my point. I think it’s important to try to be a better person every day you wake up, not just on January 1st. And the people who tell you otherwise or laugh at your ambitions are clearly not the type of people you want to be around in 2k15 anyway.

On that note… Cheers to the New Year!


Manic Mondays: FOMO is For Real

First, I’d like to apologize for my lack of blogging the past couple of days. I typically always blog on Fridays, but I was traveling home from college this past Friday afternoon and have been attending a whirlwind of sporting activities since (hockey games, football games, you name it. I honestly don’t know if I even like sports so that’s weird).

This actually brings me to today’s topic, Manic Monday and recent stress-trigger: FOMO. For those of you who don’t know what FOMO is, welcome to the 21st century. Kidding. Here it is: Fear Of Missing Out. Alas, FOMO. This very real and very destructive disease is ever present in today’s society and especially present in nut jobs, like myself.

In addition to being anxiety-ridden, it turns out I’m also a social butterfly. For some reason, despite my flaws, people seem to like me (questionable). As a result, I’m invited to various events and gatherings (typically how friendships work) and I am physically unable to say no. The thought of missing out on the good times and the good food and the good wine and the good memories… well, that’s just preposterous.

Due to FOMO, I’ve traveled from Olean to Rochester to Syracuse back to Rochester to Buffalo and back to Rochester in a 72 hour period. That’s extremely unnecessary.

It’s almost as though I think I’m exponentially more important than I actually am. That if I say no to a dinner invitation or turn down a movie date, the invite-er will simply burst into tears and wallow in sadness for days. That if I don’t attend a party the entire group of guests will wonder where I am and be unable to enjoy themselves.

In reality, no one gives a flying Fig Newton if I attend the dinner or the party. The world actually won’t melt around me if I sit in bed for a night. None of you probably even cared that I didn’t blog for five days, and here I am throwing out apologies like you were all individually weeping over my lack of complaining.

So, on a Monday night, when all I really want to do is lay in my bed and blog and Facebook creep on all you weirdos, I hate that I worry about the things I’m potentially missing out on. They probably aren’t as exciting as they seem to be. Even if they are, I think I’ll survive (also questionable).

I guess the lesson would be that it’s okay to say no. It’s okay to watch a Netflix marathon solo. It’s okay to sit in on a Friday night instead of putting on six-inch heels and slugging down miserable shots of $9 vodka.

Because, honestly, dinner and movie dates just leave a girl feeling fat and broke, anyway.

Manic Mondays: Waterworks

I cried watching the movie, Stick It yesterday.

For those of you that follow me on Twitter, you already know this. For those of you who don’t, you’re welcome for the update.

Anyway, that’s how I would summarize the week I’m about to have. You know those moods when you just want to cry about anything and everything? That’s how this manic Monday-Sunday is about to go. I can just feel it.

I’ve always wanted to be a strong girl. The kind that doesn’t really cry over anything and let’s everything slide. Clearly, I’m not “chill,” (we’ve covered those bases), but it turns out I’m not emotionally stable 98% of the time, either. I’m really down to cry a lot of the time. Like, a lot.

Yet, I feel like I’m never really crying over anything important. Hence, the first sentence of this post. I’m not crying over world hunger or Ebola, I’m crying because of one terrible actress’s struggles in the gymnastics world. I’m crying because it’s not fair that I gained three pounds this weekend after more than one trip to McDonald’s. I’m crying because all I want to do is curl up in my bed and watch The Fault in our Stars… and cry while I watch The Fault in our Stars.

Whenever something seriously bad happens, I feel as though I’m emotionally numb. It’s only when the shoes start falling off my shoe rack that the waterworks start coming on.

It’s definitely a female, hormonal thing. I almost just added “teenage” to that description, but then I realized I’m not a teenager, nor have I been one for over two years, and it’s probably about time I stop blaming my apparent bipolar disorder on my age.

I seriously wonder if guys cry like girls. I know they’re not supposed to because they’re men and they’re strong and the words “tears” isn’t in their vocabulary. But I wonder if they feel a similar lump in their throat when Haley Graham tells her gymnastic coach that she had to walk out on the World Championship because her mother was having an affair. Hello! That’s heart-breaking, girl.

Kind of inspirational... No? Photo from

Kind of inspirational… No?
Photo from

I’m going to go out on a limb, though, and say that most men probably do not. Honestly, most women probably don’t either. Maybe it’s just me, solo, crying over 2006 cult movies.

Nevertheless, it is only Monday. I’m sure my tears will subside for the rest of the week. If not, I see a lot of Ben and Jerry’s Half-Baked and Nicholas Sparks in my future.

How disgustingly unoriginal and cliche of me. Sigh.

Manic Mondays: (Un)Happy National Coffee Day

Alas, it’s Monday again. Bring on the mania.

The weekend has taken it’s usual train-wreck toll on me, and I’m struggling to get back into the weekday routine. But! There’s something great about today: It’s National Coffee Day!

Something I might actually consider keeping calm about... Photo from

Something I might actually consider keeping calm about…
Photo from

Now, I’m not sure what it takes to actually become a “National” day. Every time I go on Twitter it’s National Second Cousin Day or National Buy a Goldfish Day or something equally moronic. But, as an avid (and by avid I mean addicted) coffee drinker, I will not pass up an excuse to celebrate the juice of life.

To make this holiday even more exciting, Dunkin’ Donuts decided to give out free medium coffees to every customer. I first saw this promotion advertised on Twitter yesterday (I need to get off social media) and obviously, I was overjoyed. I’m a Dunkin’ girl through and through, so naturally I couldn’t wait for my FREE medium, hot or iced coffee the following morning. Little did I know it’s in Dunkin’s hiring requirements to be miserable.

Let me start off by saying, again, that I live, laugh, love Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Starbucks is overpriced and Tim Hortons’ brew taste like dirt (sorry, not sorry, Tim). However, I have come to learn over the years not to expect stellar service or stellar products from Dunkin’. My coffee usually has too much sugar or too little cream, they’re always out of plain bagels, their frozen beverage machine is often broken, not one employee knows how to make a bacon, egg and cheese correctly- the list goes on and on. Yet, I still come back for more and I’m usually very forgiving about my less than impressive experience.

Until today. This morning I woke up and bounced to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts eager for my free coffee, only to find out it would be served with RUDENESS. When I asked about the promotion to verify what I had seen on Twitter, I was told in a monotone voice that I could only get a dark roast, hot coffee, NOT any hot or iced coffee as I had seen advertised.

Whatever. I was willing to look past that. You can’t believe everything you seen on the internet, anyway. What I was not willing to look past was the blatant annoyance that the Dunkin’ employee had as he was forced into giving this peppy, little blonde her free coffee. He rang me out without even imitating happiness and continued to talk about his cigarette break while making my drink. Is life really THAT bad in coffee-land that you can’t fake a smile for me, dude?

Long story short, I received my free hot coffee and enjoyed every second of it, despite my angst-ridden barista’s attempt to ruin my National Coffee Day.

Not today, buddy, not today.

Manic Mondays: Weather Woes

The weather of upstate New York is almost as bipolar as I am.

This weekend was beautiful. Saturday was sunny and nearly 70 degrees. Today, it feels like it’s 20 degrees out. It’s rainy and it’s resulting in me never wanting to leave my bed, which I haven’t with the exception of attending one class and making cheesy eggs about an hour ago.

Pretty fitting for a Monday, right?

I’d like to look into hibernation as an option for 20-something-year-old girls. I really feel like bears got it right with that one. I’m curious why more species haven’t picked up that practice yet…

There’s something about the cold that seems to require hiding away from the world and from responsibilities. I literally haven’t accomplished anything today, I’m still wearing yesterday’s make-up and I’ve napped for approximately 3 hours. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was even up for blogging today, but my mood was about as “Manic Monday” as it could get and I couldn’t waste the inspiration.

To make matters worse, I live in an ice box. My room is primarily windows and half my windows are broken, since I live below the poverty live. My cheap landlord refuses to fix them, which is apparent by her refusal to answer my emails (Dad, if you’re reading this, don’t freak out. I’m sure my window will be fixed soon enough…). The design of my glass box room results in little heat, a lot of light and incessant noise. I’d sum it up as the perfect living conditions for someone as bitter and stressed as I am.

Ice Box and Fuzzy Sox

Ice Box and Fuzzy Sox

I’m just hoping Mother Nature decides to be less of a miserable brat tomorrow because there’s really only room for one of us, and I’ve become quite comfortable in my role over the years.

Just Another Manic Monday

Everyone complains about Mondays. This isn’t ground-breaking, earth-shattering, Laura Meyers original material. But isn’t it truly so hard to get back into the swing of things after the weekend?

Every Monday morning I feel as though my entire self rejects the idea of being a functioning member of society. There is something in nearly all of us that wishes the weekend would last just a minute longer.

Couldn't have said it better myself, Magz.

Couldn’t have said it better myself, Magz.

I know I’m not the only one who spends the majority of my Friday afternoons- Sunday evenings doing as little as humanly possible. The less productive I am, the more weekend-y I feel.

Sad, but true.

Sad, but true.

But, even if I haven’t been a complete waste of space all weekend, I still feel the heavy struggle of the word “weekday” on my shoulders when Monday morning rolls around.

So, with a little lyrical inspiration, I’ve decided to start blogging about my Manic Mondays every week. I’m sure everyone wants an excuse to stop pretending they’re doing work anyway, so read my blog instead.

Today (shockingly) hasn’t been a horrendous day. However, it is only 3 p.m. eastern time, meaning there’s still ample time for my day to take an unsurprising turn towards mania. I’ll be sure to complain about it later if it does.