not as young as i used to be

My senior year of college, I wrote an eighty-page thesis on very little sleep, very little food, and far too frequent (over)intoxication. Two and a half years later, I stand in awe of my former self and her ability to remain almost fully functional in spite of minimal rest, slight malnutrition, and blatant drunkenness. Especially since I find myself sitting in bed at 7pm on a Thursday night, still recovering from Saturday’s overzealous alcohol consumption and Tuesday’s near-all nighter, trying desperately to stay conscious long enough to compose something worthwhile for blog posting purposes. I fear my efforts may be in vain.

I promised to post every day in November as a way to relight that once-sparked fire under my formerly-literary ass. Unfortunately, my previously-nonexistent social life has unexpectedly reappeared, providing me with myriad opportunities to stay up late and behave irresponsibly (see: kiss cute boys—or boy, as it were). And, apparently, my post-party recovery time is just not as impressive as it once was. Thus, the tiredness and the excuses and the embarrassingly-lame beginning to my month of continuous posting.

Consider this my These Posts Will Get Better guarantee. Seriously. Because so far, I’m admittedly disappointed in my failure to adequately represent the English Nerdery, and fearful that my membership in said nerdery will be (justifiably) revoked when its other members learn of my literary deficiency. That, my friends, would be tragic. So, look forward to twenty-eight days of posts that are at least more fabulous than this.

In the meantime, a cute boy awaits me. I must go and kiss him.