Oh dear. The internet has done it to me again.
I was looking forward to some good old random internet
searching tonight, as it’s been a while since I’ve perused my favourite sites.
I had visions of craft inspirations and laughter-inducing pictures of cats
doing weird things dancing in my head as I snuggled up in front of the computer
and typed in the usual addresses.
But here I am, 20 minutes later, feeling crap about myself
and thoroughly discouraged from ever doing anything, ever again.
The internet has shown me the light. I am clearly a failure
who will never be able to apply flawless liquid eyeliner, or clean my house in
the correct way, or have perfect hair every day. My life is no longer worth
living, as I have not yet succeeded in painting a piece of funky second-hand
furniture with an awesomely bright paint. For god’s sakes, I don’t even have an
oven to bake my Mario-themed cupcakes in! You’d think that this would leave me
more time to stick to that very simple exercise plan that floats around in a
fluoro meme, involving 20 repetitions of 20 push-ups, sit-ups, burpees, star
jumps, squats and lunges, but I can’t
even get motivated enough for that!
That’s it. I’m just gonna lie here and think about how I’m
wasting my life. Go ahead, step over my immobile body. Maybe you could lie some
hand-made origami flowers upon it, and say some nice things about how I once
had the best intentions to be arty and crafty and organised and fit and clean?
“She was hopeless,” they will say. “But she always had the
best intentions.”
Rest in peace, my talents and ambitions. I shall miss you.