making the most of mediocrity

My life is horrifyingly mediocre. Sometimes I actually get anxious and scared about how mediocre it is, thinking I’m missing out on some miraculous youthful experience in which I’m supposed to be seizing the day and taking risks and living it up and having the time of my life. That’s what your early twenties are for, right? That’s what LIFE is supposed to be like- dangerous and organic and uncertain, instead of just slothlike and repetitive and uneventful, like my life.

Yesterday I went grocery shopping, and it may have been the first time in my whole life where I grocery shopped alone and didn’t feel like it was painfully obvious that I’m a naive 22 year old who barely knows how to feed herself. Usually I look at my items on the conveyor belt during checkout and I can’t help but laugh at myself: lunch meat, Nutella, pasta, yogurt, Midol. The absolute bare minimum, with random impulse buys thrown in. Barbecue flavored Pringles! Ooh! Three cheese tortellini! Spinach dip! I seriously need to learn to shop like a grown up. At least a little bit. Yesterday, though, I actually felt like I had some semblance of balance in the items that I bought. I felt proud when I checked out, even though my grocery loot included five different kinds of chips. I bought fruits and vegetables, and today I even COOKED SOMETHING and didn’t burn it. Wowww. Exciting.

The only things I hate more than my own indecisiveness at the grocery store are when other people are blocking the shelf I’m trying to shop from by being equally indecisive or when people trespass in my personal space by being one of those cracked out aggressive grocery shoppers. This guy yesterday was totally cramping my style when I was loitering in front of the cheeses, pondering which would make the most delicious pairing with the Club crackers I have at home. I take my cheeses very seriously, and deciding which one I’m in the mood for could be the most important decision I make all week.

But this guy had no time for my pontificating- he kept darting around me, snatching items off the shelves and glancing down at the list in his hand like he had a tic. It reminded me of the extreme couponers with their maps of the store and their coupon binders, and I was about to whip out my phone to tweet about how I hate when aggressive shoppers almost mow me down while I’m weighing the deliciousness of Brie versus Havarti, until I remembered that that’s totally LAME, and that I never wanted to be the sort of lame ass who tweets about mediocre non-drama at the grocery store. It’s sad that having an imaginary grocery store conflict was the only thing I did yesterday that was Tweet-worthy.

Last weekend I went with Gretchen and Andi to the open casting call for The Real World in Columbus. I didn’t realize this sort of thing takes place in Columbus, but apparently it does, and people actually go to it. Gretchen and Andi got their questionnaires at the door, and for a split second I actually considered filling one out and “auditioning” with them, because why not? It’d be cool to say I tried out for a reality show, and hey, you never know- maybe they’d actually pick me! But then I remembered that I would never want to be on a reality show, not only because I’m terrified of being in the spotlight and just thinking about interviewing with the casting directors made me a little nauseous, but also because I HATE reality TV. And, let’s be honest, there is no way in hell that they would ever pick me to be on a reality show. Why? Because I live the most mediocre life you could imagine.

The questionnaire asked things like “what was your most embarrassing moment?” and “what is the most important issue you’re currently facing?” I don’t have a remotely interesting answer for either of those, so I was content to drink Bud Light and play Photo Hunt at the bar while Gretchen and Andi did their thing. There was some interesting people watching there, to say the least, and while we were waiting in line we amused ourselves by staring blatantly at the unironically Snooki-esque girl who was downing draft beers and dancing way too enthusiastically with her sunglasses on in the middle of the bar. I also waxed philosophical about how the most unrealistic aspect of reality shows is that they always talk on the land line phone. No one uses land line phones anymore! Come on. That’s just silly.

The thing about my mediocrity is that I feel like I just don’t have TIME to do things I want to do. How do people have the time to do things they want to do? And I can’t help that I freakin’ love sleeping SO MUCH that if I have the option to be doing it instead of something else, I’ll probably nap out no matter how enticing the alternative. I mean, I work hard- I deserve a damn nap from time to time. Or like, every single Saturday. But given the outrageous amount of time that I spend vegging out, I should be doing a whole lot more reading and writing and watching movies and listening to albums, because at least those are worthwhile past times that don’t require leaving my bed. But I just can’t. I fall into the black hole of the Twitter, and just catching up on the blogs I like on my Google reader takes so much time every day that I don’t have much leftover to read actual books or to write or to do any of the other things I said I wanted to start doing now that I’m a “grown up.” I can’t even make myself write in this blog, even when Tim is all but forcing me to. It’s just so harddddd when I COULD BE NAPPING INSTEAD.

I’ll work on it. I swear I will.

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