Okay. I take it back.
Leanna and I had four goals.
4. Eat healthier. Eat more vegetables, more ingredients, more flavors, more proteins. Less cookie dough.
Have we kept this goal either? Of course not! Cookie dough will never stop being an essential. And we college kids like to stick to our four main food groups: junk, junk food, less junky food, and junk our parents wouldn't approve of. Sorry, Mom.
Yesterday I was better! I ate half a pineapple. My tongue still hasn't forgiven me.
Then I realized I was in the mood for something salty. Pasta and sauce takes too much effort. Toast involves more than one ingredient and therefore wasn't worth it either. Popcorn was the obvious choice.
I sat there, watching a show, absentmindedly texting and blogging, and eating my popcorn. Then Taylor called me and invited me to lunch.
Not quite finished with my popcorn, my first instinct was to finish it along the way. I grabbed the bowl and walked to Taylor's. We talked to some friends for awhile and when it was time to leave, I figured I'd be back, so I left the bowl on the counter.
I didn't realize until last night at 11:47 while Taylor was indisposed that I hadn't retrieved her. At 11:46 I attempted to make a bowl of popcorn for Savanna, J-Lo, and I and realized that my perfect popcorn bowl, the one that fits the entire bag so perfectly, was not here.
I haven't seen my bowl since. Poor girl. Just sitting there, all alone. Unappreciated. Laying in her own buttery filth. Nobody to wash her, clean her, lick the salt off her. I'll come for you, Genene! If it's the last thing I do!
If anything good has come out of this, I suppose it would be my realization that I need to rely a little less on popcorn. And eat healthier. And make a goal that I can actually reach.
Maybe tomorrow. For now, I just want Genene back.
Leanna and I set three goals this semester.
1. Be more social. We decided we would go out at least once a week and invite one new friend over for Sunday game night or something.
2. Go to bed at a more reasonable hour. After last semester, going to bed at midnight because of our Lost marathons was no longer an option. Bedtime for this semester, we decided, will be 11:15.
3. Wash the dishes right away. Okay. I'll admit, this was my personal goal. Leanna's always been good about dishes. I've never been very good about washing plates until it is absolutely necessary.
How are we doing?
Well, the one or two weekly outings quickly became at least fourteen outings per week, except for the one day this entire semester that we went to bed before 1:00. Literally. And only because I was so sick. I was out cold before the clock even hit nine.
Which covers the second goal. Even with a 7:00 class three times a week, my head will not hit the pillow until well after midnight.
And as far as my goal on washing dishes goes, it's no longer super applicable because my roommates this semester like to use the dishwasher. So just twice a week or so, we wash all the dishes and throw them in.
That's how we're doing. And I am exhausted.
That's how we're doing. And I am exhausted.
Yes, I am perfectly aware that there are ways to fix this exhaustion. Ways to cure the social bug I've caught. Ways to fix my relationship with my mattress. But I choose not to.
It's just too difficult to part with routine! For instance, the typical evening goes something like this:
4:00 Finish up homework on your own.
5:00 Make/eat dinner with roommates. Complain about your day.
5:30 Meet up with everyone. Run off to volleyball practice, spinning class, and/or the pool.
8:00 Come home and shower.
9:00 Meet up with guys for a movie/bid adieu to the girls with dates.
11:55 Say goodbye to the guys. Make plans for tomorrow.
11:56 Squeal with delight as you get the glorious 30 second run-down of each girl's date.
11:58 Go into detail about each date, beginning with the one that sounded the most exciting. Stay up until 1:00 discussing how tonight went, complaining about guys' inability to just make the move already, and ferociously plotting how tomorrow's dates should go.
For instance, now. It is 12:48 on a Thursday night. Savanna and I finished our movie at roughly 11:56, just in time to see two dates come through the door. Savanna and I at this point were able to determine how each date went by looking at the faces of each girl and guy that came in. Roommate Number One was kissed by her friendboy for the first time tonight (totally called it!) and Roommate Number Two held hands with her friendboy all night (nailed it!). Naturally, it has taken the full 48 (now 51) minutes to hear each rommate's analysis of the date, the guy, and the relationship. Only 19 of those minutes were deticated to freaking out that Number One's date made the first move.
Maybe it's just boys that are our problem. Nothing to do with classes or busy schedules. Just boys.
And now it's 12:54. Sounds about right. Mattress, here I come. Maybe next semester we can make one or two new goals and actually stick to them.
Once upon a time there was a girl named Lizzie, who may be exhausted, but it's totally worth it. She's living the dream. Roommates, galfriends, guyfriends, food, dating, college. What more could a person want?