lame, lame, soooo lame

Something happened inside of me this week. Something grew old and tired, and went to sleep, leaving the rest of me to pick up the pieces. I lost it. You know that sense of self-inhibition? It died.

I ate ice cream (half a carton). I watched four chick flicks and several episodes of a chick flick mini series. I did absolutely nothing productive other than clip my toe nails. I haven't even shaved my legs for the past month (and I could really use a shave. I think I have a 5 month, 5 o'clock shadow). I've gone to bed at progressively later times (as in 11:30, 12:30, 2:00, 2:00, and 3:45 (as in AM)).

What is wrong with me? I feel so lame. I can't do this to myself. And yet, I am. I am successfully becoming the person I promised I didn't want to become (okay, not that person. I haven't shut myself into a nunnery yet). But so many things I thought I was too smart to do, I am doing. And I hate it. I don't want to be like this.

I'm tired. Oh. Surprise. It is 1:37. AM.

Sigh.

Lame.

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