You Will Never Win

Best friends keep you sane.  And by keep you sane, I really mean, KEEP YOU FROM LOSING YOUR SHIT.  
Because. They. Understand.
They understand when you tell them about how people insist on trying to talk to you from across the house and you can't hear a goddamn word, and so you yell, "WHAT?!" 13 fucking times until you realize THAT YOU WILL NEVER WIN, and get up from where you're sitting to go find out that the lamp in one of the bedrooms needs a new light bulb.
And then your best friend is all, don't feel bad dude, let me tell you about how every time I try to sit down and get work done at home, I put in my headphones, and people walk around and argue with each other and then whisper-yell, "sssshhhhh!! she's trying to work!!!"
Your best friend understands when you tell the story of when you and your cousin took your Grandma to go run errands and you realized that the elderly can fucking out-talk Oprah.  BECAUSE THEY SAY WHATEVER THE SHIT IS ON THEIR MIND.
And then your best friend will be all, I know. I still get step-by-step directions on how to cook food.  Literally. Step. By. Step. Because keeping my family alive for 15 years has convinced no one.
The BFF understands when you talk about how you don't have the vision of how shit should turn out, and somehow manage to fuck up the easiest parts of life.
And then the best friend is all, ok. chill the fuck out. you. are. not. alone.  And then they go into the story of when they went out of town, somehow managed to end up lost, in the dark, in the shadiest part of the city, and got pulled over by the same cop. Twice. Within an hour. For forgetting to turn on the headlights.
And then when you leave, you just feel better.  Better about yourself.  Better about your friends. Better about life.  Because everybody deals with shit.  And everybody has people that drive them crazy but couldn't live without.  And everybody's afraid that they're fucking shit up all the time.  And everybody has a story that ends with "THIS IS BULLSHIT".  But it's the bullshit that keeps things interesting and gives you stories to tell.  So go on, people ... live your life.  Survive the bullshit.  Tell the tale.  And when you feel like you're gonna lose your shit, call your BFF.  They'll help.  They always do.

Mint Chocolate Chip. Always.

Ok.  So I haven't written a post in a while.  I know this.  And I have no valid excuse other than to say that I've been on vacation, and my spirit has apparently shunned all forms of responsibility including, but not limited to:  checking email, returning texts, watching the news, cooking valid meals, and plucking my eyebrows.  But this morning, I finally did check my email because I was like, oh shit, work's probably gonna start again soon. I should probably check to make sure that it hasn't already started and that I haven't started off a new term with spectacular flakiness.  
But, luckily, I haven't missed the opening day, but it is just around the corner.  And my  responsibility-shunning spirit, that had been so full of joy and had finally recovered from last year's sleep deprivation, wept a little and called the calendar a dream-killing douche-canoe.  And then, the sadness and responsibility crept into my body like Emily Rose's demons, and I had the choice to stay my course, and get ready to go back to work, or leave and become a rodeo clown.  But I didn't think that being a rodeo clown would pay all of my bills, and if you have to supply your own barrel, I'd be screwed anyway, so I accepted defeat, slowly slumped to the ground and whispered, I choose to stay. 
On the upside, though, this summer I found out that my local Baskin-Robbins has a drive-thru.  I'm pretty stoked about that.