Well today has definitely taken a drastic turn.
When I woke up this morning I had a couple of ideas about what I was going to blog about later. I was actually excited about blogging, which is something that doesn’t happen as often as I’d like. Yay me.
Everything was going great until I made the stupid decision to get on Pinterest. I couldn’t click anything without seeing a ‘404 – page not found’. Really? REALLY? I understand things glitch and that down time is inevitable sometimes. But it didn’t ease my anger one bit. I’m the type of person that can have something really, really bad happen to them in life and my attitude is usually a ‘it’s-ok-I-can-get-through-this’ or a ‘It’s-ok-I’ll-get-over-it-and-move-on’. But the tiniest, most insignificant things can set me off and completely ruin me. Like 404 pages for example. Seeing them repeatedly just gives me that pit stomach feeling that creeps up my body until it eventually HAS to spill out, usually in the form of the loudest most frustrated scream I can conjure up. I can’t help it.
EFF YOU, PINTEREST. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, OK? I WOULD LIKE TO BE FRIENDS AGAIN. THANK YOU.
I know, I’m psycho apparently. Someone could probably come up to me and punch me in the face and I wouldn’t be as mad at that person as I am whenever I see a 404 page. I don’t make any sense.
Then I made the mistake of trying to make my hair look halfway decent, just for fun. I was going to experiment with my curling iron that I forgot I had but found today in the bathroom. How odd that my hair, while naturally wavy, wouldn’t hold a decent curl or do anything else that one would expect their hair to do. HOW INFURIATINGLY ODD.
EFF YOU, HAIR. WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE NORMAL AND RESPOND TO HEAT IN THE WAY EVERYONE ELSE’S DOES? Seriously, I just want you to look nice. But you REFUSE. I hate you. With every last bit of my soul.
I spent an hour making a dessert (one of the things I planned on posting about today) that didn’t turn out. It looks like shit and was a complete waste of time.
Blah blah blah, I’m not doing anything else the rest of the night except merely exist and lay around all pissed off. I can at least do those two things without a hitch. As long as no one talks to me about my frizzled hair or the dessert that only the trash can will enjoy.
Tomorrow is a new day, and here’s to hoping it’s a better one.