Yo. So I’ve gone and done it. All this “New Years resolution this, New Years resolution that,” yadda yadda BS. I’m over here trying to be a better person and what not. So, I did it. IT. I did the unthinkable.
I deleted Candy Crush from my telephonic device.
I needed to get things done! I needed to clean, I needed to be less idle, I needed to engage. I needed to make a decision and start adulting more and to utilize my time more effectively!
But, I’m antsy. I find myself constantly picking up my phone and checking it, scrolling through the screens, swiping, looking shifty eyed, fidgeting, sprinkled in with some twitchy nail biting. Who’s crushed now?
What’s my newest habit going to be? How am I going to counteract this loss? I need a supplement! What do I focus on now? I need a crutch. I need a thing. A THANG. What’s my new vice going to be?
I can’t focus only on my crafts, reading, painting, knitting, or jewelry making. I need a real life habit. I need one because I’m kind of a bad girl dressed up in mom jeans with 80’s hair. That’s how I roll incognito. I need to have a bad thing! I could get a tattoo! Or a sleeve!
But, I’m worried. I’m already a clumsy, self-depricating hypochodriac. Playing Candy Crush spiced up my evenings. It contained the ingredients that I needed to maintain focus, to bridge the gap between reality and lazy. I needed and took advantage of the availability, and I played and played. And played and overplayed, and procrastinated and wasted time. It’s not in my chemistry to just play one solitary, random game here and there. I am lucky enough to have gotten the obsessive gene, and the only way to nix that is to DELETE.
Candy Crush was my bread and butter! It was soothing and refreshing to my hectic day, and gave my brain a place to retreat. It played a role! It allowed me to escape from reality without stirring the pot. It was harmless and nobody was hurting anyone! Now I need to fill the void. What about a Rave? I can crowd surf! I have a sleeve now!
But, instead – I’m frantic, and I can’t just hide my anxiety in a spoon rest. It’s there, bottled up, and ready to explode! I know all the things that I could accomplish, that I should be doing, but how do I put a lid on this nervous nonsense?
I wish I had the complete mixture, the perfect combination of confidence and smart and funny. But, I’m a stupid jerkass whose brain never stops spinning and I’m constantly exhausted. Always. I’m a mess who needs a half a cup of addiction to get me through the day. Otherwise, I’m stuck, and I am unable to watch the kettle boil. Because – patience. Nil.
Candy Crush! I believe the deed could have, in fact, been a recipe for disaster. I can’t look for an alternative obsession. I won’t succomb to the crazy. I’ll keep trudging. I’ll handle the withdrawals, and I’ll become a better person for it! My life will be better because cleanliness is key. Well, cleanliness is unheard of up in here, but at least my goals don’t suck.So, I’ma close my eyes and take in the positive aromas. My name is Tara and I deleted
Does anyone need to borrow a cup of crazy?