Ten Things To Do When You're Exhausted at 6PM

1. Whine about how tired you are on Twitter. People love it, really.

2. Get into a one-upmanship injury contest with your friend who does rock-climbing. My inner-thigh/whole body bruises from horseback riding are way more hardcore than his messed-up hands (and this isn't nearly as scandalous as it sounds in retrospect).

3. Pick a website and strip it of everything of value like a vulture because I don't know about you, but the one thing that I can do well when I'm tired is read.

4. Do moar edits.

5. Realize that spellcheck accepts "moar" as a word.

6. Eat bacon for dinner, because healthy!

7. Get into a passionate Facebook argument about the finer points of Dragon Ball Z with a guy I haven't spoken to in person for at least five years; win.

8. Use capslock a ton on Twitter, because it's hilarious. I generally try to minimize my capslocking because I know not everyone finds it as funny as I do, but often I fail in this endeavor. OH WELLZ

9. Drink coffee, realize sadly that it's stimulating me about as much as watching Bob Ross paint.

10. Sleep.

Here In This Diary

I was talking with a friend the other day about what our high school selves would think of us now. I thought it would be a great idea to go look at my old journals to recall what I was like back then.

She said, "For God's sake, why would you ever want to do that?"

Because I'm terrible at listening to advice, here you are - a journal entry from the middle of Selma's high school experience.

This will probably be a fairly random entry; just tossing down things that are floating through my head right now.

I have petit fours right now, and it's making me extremely happy. Probably cos it's that time of the month during which chocolate takes the role of our savior from crass and bloody things. 

Apparently my Philosophy class is to write the schools' updated Code of Ethics. I have to say that I'm not entirely sure how much ethical necessities can change within twenty years. Nonetheless, a class full of advanced students, the biggest group of cheaters in the school(people don't even believe me if, when asked, I say that I don't cheat. I must admit that it's a statistical improbability) is going to decide what the Code of Ethics should include. 

What does a vegan zombie eat? My mother was not amused to learn that it's "GRAIIIIIIIIIIIINS." Then again, she had just come downstairs to see her hopes for the future marching stiff-legged around the kitchen, yelling, "BRAIIIIIIIIIINS! BRAIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS!"

I was surprised to find that my journal was also chockfull of impressively horrible song lyrics. So yes, my friend is smart and I am never looking at my high school journal again.

(That is definitely a lie; I'm a sucker for a cheap laugh, even at myself.)

It looks like high school Selma is crying, but
actually I'm laughing hysterically about
walking into the ocean for the first time ever
and immediately getting body-slammed by
a giant wave.

Anyway, I learned very little about myself at 16 from this experiment. But I can say with confidence from memory that my younger self would be very surprised that I'm getting married, and very pleased that I'm still writing stories.

What about you? What would your high school self think of you now?