read my mind.

Things I Do Not Care to Read About on Twitter: A List

1. I do not care to read constant updates on your health issues. I do not need to be informed every time you go to the doctor, that you have a stuffy nose for the fifth time this month, or that your unidentifiable rash has returned. Who’s your target audience here? Unless you’re hoping to attract the medical community into using you in an upcoming study for any of the endless issues you seem to have, I’m not sure who else cares.

2. I may not care to read about your health problems but, even more than that, I give absolutely zero fucks about your cat’s health problems.*

                ‘Giving Fluffy her daily antihistamine! instagr.am/39jf29s’  4m ago
                ’Fluffy’s tummy is acting up again :(’                                        6m ago

Why are you doing this? Did your own medical life get a little dull? Thought you could live vicariously through your cat? There’s a term for this thing you’re doing, I just can’t rembmer if it’s ‘too much information’ or ‘pure stupidity’. 

3. Nevermind, that’s it.

*It may be more accurate to say that I just don’t care about your cat.

YES,

your dermatologist may be hot. But when he asks you, in a tone of high excitement, if you have any back pimples for him to pop, you need to let go of that fantasy.

I’ve been cheating on Tumblr with Pintrest.

I get it.

Hearing about how other people loved each other used to make me wish my head could be removed from its place on my neck, so thrusting it into walls repeatedly would be a much easier task. People would talk to me about their significant other and I didn’t get it. (Wait, you like that kid? The one who used to eat popcorn off the floor on his hands and knees after snack-time?) The pet names, the photoshopped pictures, constant anniversary countdowns, the talking every second, the abundance of mushy Facebook posts (you do have each other’s phone numbers, right?) — I could not. In the shaking my head to the nth degree, exercising my right to never partake in such things, desperately wanting to wwf smackdown a lot of people for their stupidity way. And where I still think all of those things are really dumb, I get it. I get wanting to feel like a complete loveymushylameface for someone. And how it’s almost something you have no control over. I get how only a week away from someone really actually just sucks. Or not hearing someone’s voice in a while makes you feel a little lost. It’s been a weird spin of events, plato’s cave, crossing over to the other side sort of experience that I think only comes from falling in love. Things look different when you’re seeing them through your own eyes. Suddenly all the annoying shit other people did, is now the annoying shit you do. Not that I’m spending my spare time on Picnik editing mine and Zach’s initials onto pictures of us, but I’m seeing things differently. (*Silently moves cursor over the ‘x’ on the picnik tab*) So fear not, annoy couples in love, I’ll turn a cheek when I stumble across your wall posts in which you call each other “Boo” and provide a countdown (in hours) to your sushi date! I get it. (Sort of)

Something I’m most recently obsessed with…

Hand quilted Uke gig bags. These are awesome. I stumble upon the best things on Etsy.

(Source: )

Today was one of those days…

where at the end, you’re tired. You don’t really want to move. Your legs hurt. Your eyes are heavy. But you feel good. It’s the kind of tired where you know your day meant something. A rewarding kind of tired. A feeling that may get lost on you for a long time. Until it happens again and it sparks something. And you realize this is how you should feel as the night’s ending. Fulfilled. Like you did your best. Like today is worth remembering.