Maxigumee

It’s summer. Yay! Even though I am extremely happy to finally be out of school and have a pretty good report card, there is nothing at all to do. That is, besides sitting on giant pillows on my floor watching episodes of Will & Grace over and over again, and eating way too many Raisinets and Doritos.

Every day, I keep wanting to make some sort of plan, some sort of resolution that the next day, I will get up, get dressed, and get my act together…. but I don’t. I’m just so BLAH.

I know should really be out doing something or else the summer will go by waaaay to fast, like the way it did last year, but I just can’t do it. Does saying that there’s nothing to do because I have no money make me sound spoiled and shallow? Hm….

I can’t even go anywhere since my bike seat was stolen on my birthday. Who on EARTH goes into somebody’s yard and steals a BIKE SEAT of all things? I can just imagine how my poor bike seat feels, being sold to some ten year old for two dollars by some heroin addict. I totally need to disinfect my bike, but we’re sort of out of Lysol and Clorox disinfectant wipes.

So. Here I am, typing into my blog…. waiting for my packages I ordered on eBay and Amazon to come….. even though I just ordered them today. What should I do? What’s there to do? …..I could start my summer reading, but for some reason, even though there is like *nothing* to do, my attention span for that kind of think is, like me right now, BLAH.

My family thinks I am completely insane. It’s like every day that they find more evidence that I should be locked up in some mental institution, being fed anti-depressants all day. Just a few minutes ago, my mother came up to me and tells me that I must be agoraphobic. Why? Because I won’t go up to the DVD store and rent movies since we have some deal where we have unlimited rentals. The conversation went a bit like this:

Mom: Why don’t you go up and rent some movies and return the two that we have now? You’re so agoraphobic that you can’t do that?

Me: I don’t have agoraphobia. I just don’t feel like walking up to the DVD place.

Mom: You can’t even go outside, can you?

Me: I went outside to get the mail today, didn’t I?

Mom: Well, you did, but then you scurried back inside quickly.

Me: No, I didn’t!

And if I did scurry back inside, it was because I went outside not wearing a belt and my pants were falling down. Are all parents this anxious about their child’s mental health? I mean, who on earth sends their child to a psycho therapist and spends the entire session complaining that their child doesn’t like their clothes machine dried? -That actually happened.

It’s so aggravating to listen to my parents completely exaggerate what I do. “You must take two or three showers a day! Look at how many towels you’re using!” – “Stop washing your hands all the time! All I hear is that water running!” Okay, I know that I can be a bit obsessive about my cleanliness, but I don’t think I do it nearly as much as my parents think. I wish they’d just stop worrying so much.