If you took an account of all people currently living functional, adult lives, I would probably be judged the least successful at it. Ever. Truly, it is amazing that I’m still alive, bathed, with clean clothes and all my teeth (ie. no scurvy yet) and able to work and pay bills and function in modern society.

For example, I cannot get my ass to the grocery store to save my life. Somewhere in my pea brain of what I know of both personal finance and of nutrition, I KNOW that buying groceries every week is the best way to go. I do, I know this. I feel it in my bones (the ones probably shrinking from lack of vitamin D). And yet, I cannot break my habit of buying pre-made sandwiches from the fancy deli, or ordering Papa John’s pizza (seriously, they send me e-coupons every six minutes!), or getting falafel sandwiches from the one Middle Eastern place in all of Savannah.

I am 27! In a few months I will be 28! I am supposedly a woman. (Shit no I’m not!) I should not be living on pre-packaged food still! How will I raise a child? How will I keep my health?

For example, right now I am hanging out at home all day before my night class, “doing” “homework.” But as you see, I am playing on the computer. Also I am eating breakfast. What exactly am I eating? Roasted almonds and a diet soda. Yes.

Although in fairness, I sometimes do eat healthily. Last week, for example, I did go to the grocery store, which resulted in exactly THREE DAYS IN A ROW of healthy salads with fruit and grilled chicken (pre-packaged of course) before I got bored of them. The remainder of the bag of salad is, I believe, rotting away in the crisper as I type.

(My diet soda has “berries and cream” on the label though. Does that count for anything on the food pyramid?)

Also, to point out how extra-dumb I am, I just now set the can of almonds too close ot the edge of the desk and promptly knocked it over, thus ensuring that every square inch of this corner of the apartment is coated in a fine nut dust. JUST IN TIME FOR SAVANNAH’S ROACH SEASON, ARGGGH.

If I were not so lazy, I would just vacuum the entire corner of this apartment, right? Right? Oh ho ho. Have you only just met me?

Over the weekend it occurred to me that I need to start taking better care of things around here. So I shaved my legs and did lotion all over the place, and also attempted to floss my teeth, which I am very very slipshod about, shhhhhh or the dentist will hear and berate me from afar, in-between visits no less. My big fear is that I will develop massive mouth disease and lose all me teeth, and then all that cash my parents paid for the braces will be for shit.

In summation: help. Somebody please come and take care of me. My parents seem to think that they molded me into a Capable Adult, and I guess I am tricking everybody so far, but honestly I’m like a 12-year-old boy or something. Somebody please come live with me and help me take care of my life! I’m very good company, I promise. I can recite Zoolander or The Big Lebowski for you as often as you want!

ps– Am I supposed to be WASHING the coffee pot out after each use? Because a lot of times I just swish water around in it. Dear god, I am helpless.