Sleeping through September

Dude.

6 days of sleeping 12+ hours each day.

On the one hand, I'm glad I don't have children so I can sleep for 12+ hours every day without feeling guilty. On the other hand, sleeping for 12 hours a day really F's my day in the A. I've also been having super bizarre dreams involving an odd cast of characters (like the Kardashian sisters and a baby of theirs that turned evil whenever I looked at it). I'm kinda afraid to go to sleep.

So starting tomorrow, I'm taking steps to Better Myself. And I'm forcing Addie on the Self Betterment Train. So yeah. In honor of that, here's a throw back Audrey piece, (one of my mom's favorites), presumably also written on a Tuesday night:

“You will do constructive things this week,” I told myself as I popped a Valium and washed it down with Pepsi. “And by constructive things, I mean not reading Post Secret comments on Facebook; not obsessing over high school yearbooks; not forgetting to do your laundry for the third week in a row; not watching the same Sex and the City episodes over and over again; not checking your internets constantly; and definitely not contemplating re-arranging your room—for the sixteenth time. Definitely none of those things.”

“This week, you will take care of yourself. You will not worry about the little things. You will stride forward with complete confidence, and with such ease that people will take notice of you. You will read more. Your vocabulary will increase, as will your knowledge of real current events–not just the decline in sanity in the cast of MTV’s The Hills. 

You will deafen people with your newfound political opinions and insights into international finance. You will not finish off the bottles of brown whiskeys and red wines and white wines and slightly pink wines and yellowish wines and the clear vodka from two years ago and that bottle of Malibu that some asshole brought to one of your parties when he mistakenly forgot that you’re not a tool. 

You will focus on the future and not worry about how successful your ex boyfriends are, or how you’re still living with your parents while your girlfriends are finding husbands and having babies and buying single-family homes.

These next 7 days will utterly re-define your existence on this planet. These next 7 days will shift you into a new class of people. A new class of human, really. You will become the toast of the town, the knees of the bees, the pajamas of the cats. By the 7th day, successful music producers will be clamoring to write songs about you. A Pulitzer will sit proudly above the toilet in your bathroom. Oprah will call YOU for your book club suggestions. Rachel Ray will send you an evite to her cook out, and you will reply, “no thank you. I’d rather die.” Your bank account will read more than $.89. European cars will find their way to your driveway. Your puppy will finally accept house breaking when she steps into your awesome presence. The hair on your legs will stop growing out of fear of embarrassing you.

You will, in essence, become everything that you’ve ever wanted to be, everything that everyone has always needed you to be, and the saving grace that this world didn’t even know it needed (all the while, denying that you have a delusional complex.) You will become the You that even You didn’t know You wanted to be.

But first, you must take a nap. And watch one more episode of Sex and the City. In fact, you’ll start FIRST thing in the morning.”