This is Me Typing: Part 6

hi person reading this. I hope this blog post finds you well.

I don’t know how long this rant is going to be. It could be the length of like two thumb scrolls for you or it could be like ten. I have no idea. Let’s find out together, shall we? Cool.

I guess the first thing I should do is wish you a happy new year.

It’s officially 2019. Time is rad.

I’m not sure if you’re able to pick up on my tone via my typing, but I should mention that I’m not in the best of moods. Thus far, January has been particularly less than ideal for ya girl.

  • I just called myself “ya girl”
    • okay
    • I’m won’t erase it. It happened. This is me now
      • ya girl has been changed by very recent past occurrences
        • lol see what I did there?

So yeah I hope your life is all fresh and fun and full of resolutions blah blah blah

  • tbh I secretly resent your joy
    • I’m sorry
      • don’t let my grumpy self project onto you

Long story short, my phone got stolen on New Years Eve.

While I was in a really crowded bar, some creature of the night managed to unzip my bag while it was ON my PERSON and then take my phone out of it without me noticing.

  • I hate to admit that I am ever so slightly impressed by the skillful facilitation of this thievery
    • professional af
  • but NONETHELESS my rage far outweighs my acknowledgement of a job well done
    • when I say rage I literally mean I turned into a dragon the moment I realized that someone pick-pocketed me
      • … like I feel so bad for my friends who had to deal with me the rest of the night lol
        • they are angels whom I do not deserve. They helped me despite the smoke coming out of my ears and my occasional screeching
        • In summary: get you friends like mine who take care of you (ie. give you water, clean your make up off, force you to take a foot bath, etc)
          • EVEN after you’ve terrorized the world for hours in reaction to losing a replaceable object
            • *sigh

Indeed, I am aware that objectively speaking, losing a phone isn’t that big of a deal. Technology is nifty. There’s a magical cloud that holds onto all of your pictures and contacts and notes etc etc etc

  • …the only caveat is that you’re supposed to MAKE SURE THE CLOUD IS TURNED ON AND THUS ACTIVELY SAVING YOUR STUFF BEFORE YOUR PHONE GETS STOLEN
    • do you see what I’m getting at here?

I am a trash person.

I didn’t have my i-cloud drive (or whatever the hecking heck its name is) turned on… and therefore all of my phone’s data has disappeared into the void.

  • selfies with my dogs
    • gone
  • voicemails left by my grandma lovingly yelling at me
    • bye bye
  • list of new words I’ve learned over the past 2 years
    • POOF gone

This has been a very sobering experience, to say the least. The most difficult part of it all is the fact that it is 100% my fault. May this be a lesson to us all. Don’t be like me. Back your shit up. Tell your lists you love them more often. Hold them tightly.

At this current point in retrospect I’m in the laugh-crying stage of grieving. I’m attempting to remain positive. I’m telling myself that this is an opportunity to start fresh; to stop hoarding content; to be more mindful.

  • ugh mindfulness is so annoyingly important

This might be a blessing in disguise.

Maybe it is time for me to clean out my life. I may or may not qualify as a minor hoarder. I have an unfortunate tendency to accumulate clutter and bury myself in it. I become one with my clutter.

  • Shout out to my roommates (both past and present) for dealing with my mayhem when my items explode all over our home. I am so sorry lol
    • To my sorority sister with whom I shared a very small room during my junior year of college… I regret that we never had a floor
      • my bad
    • To my friends with whom I shared a house during my senior year of college… sorry about all the yarn and art supplies scattered everywhere
      • also sorry about accidentally giving our lawnmower away that one time
    • To my current roommates with whom I share a home in New York… thank you for being yourselves, I don’t deserve you
      • ps sorry about the kitchen right now

It feels good to type all of this out.

If you’re still reading this, you and I should climb a mountain together some time. I feel like that’d be fun.

I’m going to stop ranting very soon, I promise.  I don’t want to bore you too much with my hoarding woes. There’s one more thing I should type at you, though. I have one last bit of digital clutter in need of purging. I think it is time… to delete all of the unfinished blog post drafts I’ve accumulated on WordPress since 2016. 

Poor little posts. I feel bad for them. They never got a chance to grow up. This is their moment to shine before saying goodbye. In commemoration, I’ll list a few of their titles here: 

  1. “Why It’s Okay to Only Wanna Talk to Your Dogs”
  2. “My Grandmother Will Fight You”
  3. “Dracula and Feminism: A Direct Correlation”
  4. “How I Spent My 21st Birthday”
  5. “Dear Freshmen Buying Study Drugs”
  6. “Frankenstein Knows How College Kids Feel”
  7. “Ten Methods of Bad-Assery as Demonstrated by Sigmund Freud”
  8. “Replacing My Phone With a Coloring Book for 3 Weeks: An Experiment”
  9. “The Mysterious Art of Personing and Doing All The Things”

Alrighty I think that’s enough. You get the picture. There are lots of things I want to write about. I tend to overwhelm myself with too many ideas. We’ve talked about this. Writing is both the bane of my existence and the love of my life. We have a complicatedly simple relationship.

I mentioned mindfulness earlier in this rant (^ up there). I’m going to talk about it one more time before I say bye bye to you.

Writing is really frikin hard, man. We all know this. In order to get ideas out onto paper, a writer needs to practice mindfulness meditation. Writing requires an ability to sit still for a significant amount of time and MINDFULLY think out words that convey an idea in a linear fashion.

  • I am still trying to figure out how to master the art of sitting still. I am getting there, both slowly and surely. I promise

I’m done typing now.

Thanks for listening/reading/existing. You’re my favorite.

I promise my next blog post, This Is Me Typing: Part 7 will feature a far less amount of complaining.

Love you

– Kira

© Words4Food

PS. If you don’t follow me on Instagram, that’s okay but also I’m sad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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