Why don’t you write a letter to your senator, your representative, your governor, and your president to complain about the monstrosity that is Daylight Saving Time. I hate it. I loathe it! Getting dark at 4:30? Ain’t nobody got time for that. I wouldn’t mind so much if I were in a gorgeous city with something to do like the Camden district of London. But instead, all I have is endless fields. I’m sad.
Why don’t you pick up a few British expressions? I’m currently crazy for the term “chuffed.” It means something like pleased or proud. I refuse to refer to my underwear as pants, though, as they do in Great Britain, because that’s absolutely ridiculous.
Why don’t you get a new tattoo? If you haven’t had one, they’re quite fun to have on your body someplace. I’ve only got one at the moment, on my forearm. Obvious, but subtle, I think. I’m considering a new one. Not sure what I want, yet, but I guess what the people on the Internet said were right about tattoos being addictive. I want a sleeve. I want two sleeves.
Why don’t you choose a classic novel and do a bit of research to discover what the best selling book was at its release? This will introduce you to a piece of literature you surely know nothing about, but will also teach you a lesson on the folly of success. Those successful novels have, for the most part, been long forgotten.
Why don’t you start planning your next trip? It’s extraordinarily important to go out and see the world, whether that be a half hour’s drive away or a half day’s flight from where you are. I haven’t been on a big trip in three months and I’m itching to get someplace. I’m dying to visit New Orleans — perhaps over winter break, probably spring break, though. #sadsies