Go away lawn flamingos.
Like many people my age, I deal with anxiety. Some are larger than others- student loans, searching for jobs, dating, all fairly understandable in their own right. However, many of my anxieties are smaller and in some sense, kind of ridiculous. These tiny fixtures of irrational feelings of doubt have no justification whatsoever- they simply exist in my head space for no real reason and have an unnecessarily large impact on my daily life. They tend to clutter my thoughts and if you know me it’s already a mess up there so it usually just adds to the confusion. And the best part, they seem to come up at just the right moment to throw off my entire day. Clever little bastards. Here are some of these pesky little anxieties out in the open for your entertainment and for my own embarrassment.
Ordering Any Food Item with Company
When faced with the need to order food in front of someone else, I automatically freeze up inside. For some reason, I think that what I order will speak volumes about me as a person to those around me, and that gives me soul crippling anxiety. It’s almost as if I become a walking Buzzfeed quiz- “What Do Your Coffee Preferences Reveal About You?”, “Tell Us Your Zodiac Sign And We’ll Tell You What To Order At Taco Bell”, “How Trash Are Your Soup Opinions?”. Yeah, its that bad.
Being First in Line at a Checkout Counter
After finally deciding on what to order based on my star alignment another anxiety attack hits. As soon as that receipt hits my hand it’s a mad dash for me to shove that shit in my wallet as quickly and haphazardly as possible. I’ll be damned if I end up in a wannabe paparazzi photo making its rounds through Twitter captioned “ohmygod when people take too long at the cash register #relatable #movebitch”. I mostly blame this one on my time interning in Hoboken and getting coffee at the same time that much more important and pressed people also needed their coffees, and occasionally being the hot mess trying to balance the entire office’s coffees, my handbag, my coat, and wearing heels. I got a few remarks (deservedly so) that probably fueled this one.
And after I’ve finally ordered and sprinted away from the checkout line, I suddenly need to check my bank account. To the person who thought that mobile banking was a good idea- you’re an evil genius. I now have an app that delivers personalized anxiety as I check whether I can afford a McChicken or not. My mobile banking app itemizes all of my impulse purchases in a neat little list for me to shamefully stare at and consider- was that shark laser pointer really worth it? Right next to my banking app? My Amazon app, the #1 source of said impulse purchases.
Managing my Cell Data
What a bitch it is to live in a world where you have to rely heavily on your phone and be nearing the end of your monthly data. Have you ever stepped into a dimly lit McDonald’s on a Friday night and asked for the wifi password just so you can call your Uber home while avoiding the weird guy ordering 27 Filet-O-Fishes? Yeah, not my most shining moment but at least it makes for a good story, sort of. In any case, getting that oh-so-lovely text from my father saying “you’re almost out of data” on the 14th or so of every month sends me into full on panic mode. What if I need to use Google Maps?! What if I get an important email regarding my upcoming NYT review for my sensational blog?! What if I need to prove that I’m right about some stupid sucker bet using Google?! What if I just get lazy and need to call an Uber?! Well, looks like I’m S.O.L. once again. Hope all that Spotify streaming was worth it kiddo.
Today on “Lets See if this is Really a Large” the category is- My Boobs Won’t Fit. I’m not a gambling gal, but online shopping always feels to me like an episode of The Price is Right. What’s behind door number 3, is it a cute summery dress or an indecent exposure citation waiting to happen?! Mr. Barker show our contestant what our prize is! And it’s a pair of shorts that fit the waist but not the thighs! Online shopping is rough when your body can’t decide if it’s a medium, large, or extra large. And you can just trash the idea of me measuring my body at home to fit the sizing chart because I’m too lazy for that nonsense. 5-7 business days of anxiety while I wait to see if I really just paid to make myself look like a sausage in a casing, and checking my mobile banking app to see if it was worth the $11.99 expedited shipping.
She thinks I’m a what? I panic to myself as I type IMHO into Urban Dictionary after seeing it pop up in a text from a friend referencing a conversation we had earlier. Whether it’s “Netflix and Chilling with bae” or “TL;DR” I’m constantly behind the 8-ball in knowing the latest acronyms and slang. In 8th grade I literally had to ask a friend what “ily’ meant (I thought she was talking about coffee), and in college I took a friend aside and asked why this girl was always talking lovingly about the ocean (bae, not bay you idiot). Language is whacky man. As a the proud owner of an English degree, I do pride myself on being able to utilize language to express intricately nuanced ideas and pose carefully worded questions to my readers blah blah blah but keeping up with the latest trends in language is tiresome and brings me back to that dark place British Literature I and having to decipher Beowulf or The Canterbury Tales– omg that nun is so bougie and more like Bae-owulf amiright?
This Lawn Flamingo
One day I was just strolling along, enjoying the day, and then this menace shows up.
Look at him, arching his neck out as if he’s out for blood. Don’t even get me started on the eyes, because there are none. WTF lawn flamingo. Did little Billy decided to start his trifecta small and gouge out the eyes on a piece of absurd lawn plastic before moving onto squirrels or the neighbors cat? To be honest, all lawn ornaments give me anxiety. Don’t force your Pixar happiness on me via your cruddy lawn.
Honestly, who threatens to rip out someone’s endocrine system? I’m not sure whether to idolize the man or be deeply afraid of him. Instant anxiety.