I Can't

Another week, another string of things that I can't handle. "When does it stop?!" They ask. NEVER. I can't...

with the word "goober." Who actually says this anymore? I hear it very infrequently, thank god, and I'm guessing that's most likely because I choose not to surround myself with goody-goody church-going types who don't cuss and are living in an era where "goober" is still apart of everyday vernacular. But GOOBER? REALLY?!?!! Goober. I'd sooner have you call me a nincompoop or a hooligan.

I can't...

when people smarmily say, "Oh. Thanks for joining us" or any other type of sarcastic commentary that lives within that vein. You know - you're a little late for a meeting or maybe you're in the meeting on time but have zoned out before you suddenly have a thought you can contribute, and some asshole decides to call you out by pulling the whole, "thanks for joining us!" bullshit. One time, I'd like to say, "HEY! YOU'RE SO WELCOME! THANK YOU FOR CALLING ME OUT!"

I can't...

with how testy bananas and avocados are. Talk about life being about timing. There is a certain day, a certain hour, a certain minute in which you MUST consume a banana or avocado, otherwise it goes to shit and you've missed your small window of opportunity. You don't even really have a full day to indulge - it's more like an hour. An hour to eat you whether I want to or not? Oh, that's RIPE.

I can't...

when your boobs are so sore, it feels like you just got surgery and are currently in recovery. Like so sore to the point where all you can do is lay in bed, holding them up for relief, and moan "my tittttttttts. my titttttttttssssssss." Ladies? No? You haven't lived that situation? Just me? Ok.

I can't...

with ASOS right now. I ordered three things over the Black Friday/Cyber Monday holiday (yes, it's a holiday for me), and all three items were shipped back to their warehouse just this morning. To be fair, I could've kept the dress, but I decided it wasn't worth $50. But, to be even fairer, IS THIS "CHIC OVERSIZED WHITE T" A JOKE? BECAUSE I LAUGHED. HARD.

Like... COME ON. Yes, I understand that 9 times out of 10, what you order offline that looks so flawless on the 5'11", 100 lb model isn't going to look exactly the same on you, but this is just ludicrous. One friend said I look like Slim Shady and asked me to please stand up, please stand up. Another friend retorted, "I can't tell if the real Slim Shady is standing because I can barely see her legs." So much for trying to look cute in irrationally oversized clothing items from Europe.

I can't...

believe that I reported to you guys last week that my coffee maker had crapped out on me and impulsively threw it out and bought a new one, only to discover that I'm a ruh-tard and it wasn't the machine - it was the outlet in my kitchen. I can't with myself on that one.

I can't...

when people give me attitude for wanting to take pictures. When they scoff or huff and puff or roll their eyes or act SOOOO put out. HEY. YA KNOW WHAT? YOU SHOULD TAKE IT AS A FUCKING COMPLIMENT THAT I THINK YOU LOOK GOOD ENOUGH TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED TODAY, YOU. I mean my god! How long does it take to snap a photo? .2 seconds? Now, if I wanted to take a picture of your food or something and was prohibiting you from eating, then yes - you could slap me. But maybe don't be a such a dick if I'm just trying to capture life on camera. I will say - the attitudes have gotten a lot better. People used to be real assholes to me about my obsession with pictures. But, like most things, if you just keep at it long enough and don't give a fuq, people will eventually stop caring. Or something like that.

I can't...

believe that through all my years at summer camp, I never once was named a "Campfire Lighter." You see, every single night, we would gather as a camp for "campfire." And, every single night, a handful of campers were chosen as the best campers of the day and crowned that evening's "campfire lighters." When I became a counselor, I was informed that every single individual camper MUST receive campfire lighter at least once in their career as a camper. And I never did. Not once. I'm not saying anything, but if I was, it would rhyme with anti-clemite.

I can't...

handle it when people give other people shit for "selfies." I've written about selfies before, in a poor light. But that's because there are so many selfies that are just terrible. The gym selfies. Or the "I'm pretending I don't know how cute or pretty I look" selfies. I've always preached that selfies are totally fine, as long as you own it. To me, selfies aren't for the conceited. They don't mean you're self-centered or self-obsessive. I view them as healthy and brimming with confidence! I really do. I love seeing y'alls faces! So selfie on - just be smart about it.

I can't...

from the "This Advertising Life" tumbler page: "Going to a happy hour on the first day of a new job"

I can't...

keep eating Chipotle at this rate and I think I need an intervention of sorts. I had it twice in two days this past weekend. The first time was understandable - I was stuck at my parents home because of the Dallas "icepocalypse." My father so kindly offered to risk our lives and drive us to Chipotle heaven and I triple salchowed across the parking lot to my steak-filled destination. But, then I turned around on Sunday and gorged on it AGAIN. What's that, like... 5,000 calories in two days? I'm going to come out of this winter hibernation as an actual bear. WATCH OUT, BOYS! Hehe!

I can't...

BELIEVE THAT "TRIPLE SALCHOW" IS SPELLED "SALCHOW." This whole time I've been thinking of it as "sow cow." How could I be so literal?!?

I can't...

anymore today. The can'ting is over.

Keep calm and can't on.