I Don't Wanna...

...Get a real job
...Eat any fruit
...Haul my lazy butt up the stairs to use the bathroom AGAIN
...Read anything but Nietzsche
...Move out yet
...Live two states away from boyfriend anymore
...Live in single life without boyfriend as husband anymore
...Exercise just for the endorphins (I can think of other things to give me endorphins)
...Have to build another small fire in my bedroom to thaw myself out before sleeping
...Go to church on Sunday and sit through another lesson about Zion
...Wear regular bras that aren't spandex uni-boob sports bras
...Bribe my cat to come snuggle with pathetic unlovable me
...Refer to myself as pathetic and unlovable
...Try to trick boyfriend again into calling me unpathetic and completely lovable (and pretty)
...Have anything to do with credit, mortgages, down payments, insurances, or any other grown-up terms
...Use my bank account (how about just using my mattress?)
...Medicate
...Re-read this in a week and laugh at how whiny I sound (even though I know I will, because by then I'll be on an "up")
...Stop rolling my eyes at dumb people just because my mom says I look six years younger when I do it
...Wash my hair (I just did it)
...Hear any more Neil Diamond or Barbra Streisand Christmas covers (but don't you leave me, Amy Grant, not yet)
...Pass any mirrors unless I'm in my hottie-butt-hugger jeans
...Wear my hottie-butt-hugger jeans
...Drag my ass back downstairs to lay in bed and stare at my ceiling while my family slumbers peacefully on the third floor