90% of my choices in college were completely spontaneous. I never knew what I was going to say or do until 30 seconds before it happened. Some days I would go to class and some days I would spend six hours debating the underlying philosophy behind the SNICK line-up of the ’90s. Some days I would put on pants with zippers and some days I would walk to the quad wearing nothing but fake Uggs and a sweatband. The only thing that was for sure every day was that I would regret something I did the night before.
Now, almost a year out of college, I would say 99% of my day is regimented, scheduled, planned, organized, and color-coded on my Google Calendar. I know people in the army who have more flexible schedules than me (and by people in the army I’m referring to the Disney channel documentary, Cadet Kelly).
I wake up at 7:45, press snooze exactly 3 times, look at myself in the mirror and debate if I need to shower, turn on the light and realize that I without a doubt need to shower, blow-dry my hair while praying that one day it will dry stick-straight, walk to work, step in front of a bus and make a bet with myself if it will stop before hitting me, work, go home, watch reruns, eat dinner, squeeze fat rolls and blame my birth control, eat stale Valentine’s Day candy sent by my mom, try to convince my roommates to get a dog (Shar, back me up here), go to bed, have a bad dream about getting hit by a bus.
With the exception of my Valentine’s Day candy getting progressively staler, every single day is exactly the same. And if I assume that I’m not starring in a ‘Groundhog Day’ remake (bold assumption, I know), then I can also assume I’ll spend the next 97 years of my life repeating this same conversation over and over again.
At this point I’m considering having a baby just to break up the monotony. Not only will I finally get to fulfill my fantasy to shop in Pea-in-a-Pod, but I’ll also get to steal all my sister’s attention at her upcoming graduation. And if I time everything just right and spin a good enough story, I might just get featured on TV’s most uplifting show “I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant.” Hey, a girl can dream!
But having a baby means having a boyfriend. And since text messages can’t get you pregnant in the blue states, I’m plum out of luck. So I’m on to my back-up plan to bring back spontaneity into my life: never say no to anything ever again. Well maybe sometimes I’ll say no. I don’t want my life to turn into a half-ass trailer for the ‘Yes Man’ sequel. (However I do want my life to turn into a non-stop running list of movies, so expect at least 9 more to be mentioned before this blog ends.)
From here on out expect my blog to turn into a live action version of ‘The Bucket List.’ Who knows what wacky adventures I’ll get into when I say yes to everyone from the gypsy cabs (uh oh! death city) or the girl in the bar bathroom offering me coke (watch out, Lohan) or my roommate asking me if she can get me something while she’s out (um, a summer wardrobe and groceries for the week. k. thx).