The Shame Spiral of a Modern Girl

I literally said out loud today, "Within one year, I have to be less crazy". The fact that I'd have to say that out loud means that I am probably not going to reach that goal. This declaration was prompted by the fact that after dreaming about ex-boyfriends all night (some good, some bad), I tried to convince myself that I had an elevator in my house. It's not quite as insane as it sounds. I was doing laundry and as I was lugging my towels onto the elevator from my 4th floor apartment to the dingy laundry room on the first floor, I got an overwhelming sense of anxiety/sadness/craziness wondering why I didn't own a house with a washer and dryer IN IT. So I thought, "What if I just pretend that I'm SO rich and centered and accomplished, that this elevator I'm on is taking me from one story of my mansion to the other?" Sure, I'd have to come up with a reason that a (possible) gang member tagged my personal elevator walls with the words "Hector will own you" and perhaps I'll need a back-story as to why my personal elevator often stops on a floor that has 40 other mailboxes. But these are just details that can surely be sorted out in time.

Also for full disclosure, I should mention that as I was declaring my hopes to be "less crazy", I was dressed in Dallas Cowboys sweatpants, a black t-shirt with a giant tiger on it and a pink Snuggie, all signs of a less than healthy psyche.

Maybe it's best that I repeat my new mantra, "Within one year, I have to be less crazy" as I take myself down to the first floor of my enormous mansion. Perhaps that mantra will help me come up with an explanation as to why I have a landlord who lives in my house.

Readers, I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to email me thoughts or questions to: Shescrazyhesaliar@gmail.com