20 Seconds to Comply

I'm not entirely sure I have anything to say. I certainly don't have anything to do. I feel like announcing to the office "So my mom was Catholic once upon a time, therefore I should leave so I can properly pay my respects to Good Friday." I, of course, would leave and go to the gym. That's not appropriate.  

Instead  I've managed to NOTHING for about 2 hours. It's fine. I know that there are points in my job life where I'll be busier, so I shouldn't feel the guilt that comes with sitting at my desk, looking up pictures of cute boys on the internet, and listening to old Xtina *shrug* 

I've dressed as if I'm going to a sock hop after work. I kind of wish this were true. Doesn't it seem like "times were easier" back then? Like, you go to dances, listen to the radio, go to bed early, wear big skirts and tight t-shirts, and your hair in a pony tail while you drink milkshakes with your boyfriend, unaware of calories, and cancer, and all those poisons we're hyper aware of now. I know that life wasn't really like that. But, man, do I wish it was. I suppose we learned, over time, that the picture perfect wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and we had movements and revolutions, and sociology, and technology pushed us forward, making sure no one's innocence was spared, and all bubbles burst. And we assume that life is better now that we know, and everything is laid out on the table. 

Perhaps there was some comfort in the unknown. I doubt it, though.