Might or Might Not.

13 05 2010

Let’s play a game, shall we? It’s called Might or Might Not, wherein I preface a list of things with I Might or Might Not and it is left to you, my poor reader, to decide for yourself which it is. Might or Might Not.

I Might or Might Not have just prepared a feast of cream of mushroom soup, multigrain saltine crackers and Lean Cuisine meals for my family because my stove is broken.

I Might or Might Not have just overflowed my Brita pitcher because I was meditating (staring blankly off into space while singing “Billy Don’t Be A Hero” in my head) and partially mini-flooded the kitchen.

I Might or Might Not know only one verse of “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero”.

I Might or Might Not have just bagged up 6 pizza boxes that were in a holding spot on my kitchen floor. I know.

I Might or Might Not be in a wee shame spiral for admitting what a shit housekeeper I am to the whole internet.

I Might or Might Not have just decided that I don’t give a steaming pile of elephant dung if anyone thinks I am a crap housekeeper.

I Might Or Might Not be lying to myself that I don’t care what people think of my ability to be a neat person.

I Might or Might Not think that admitting my problem is the first step.

I Might or Might Not have ordered pizza for the family at least 3 times (2 pizzas per) in the last 2 weeks.

I Might or Might Not have just made myself a large mug of fully leaded coffee because the half dose of adderall I took at 3pm is starting to wear off and I don’t want to take more or I Might or Might Not sleep tonight.

I Might or Might Not have trouble sleeping because I am drinking a large mug of fully leaded coffee after 7pm.

I Might or Might Not have been randomly entertaining (secretly panicked on the inside but able to live in a constant state of denial on the outside) thoughts of my head and/or heart exploding sometime soon due to an upped dose of amphetamines and a new prescription of prozac added to the cocktail.

I Might or Might Not have run a mop over my kitchen floor in upwards of two+ weeks.

I Might or Might Not have an annoying ant problem in my house.

I Might or Might Not have started down the spiral of shame once again for admitting more of my domestic phail.

I Might or Might Not have decided that telling the entire fucking internet that I am a complete slob-bag might just be the best therapy ever.

I Might or Might Not have just decided, upon looking in my fridge, that my dinner would consist of a tomato and two cans of V8

I Might or Might Not have just had a passing wish for a very large mug of beer. Very large. Gigantic. EPIC mug of beer.

I Might or Might Not feel like I could vibrate out of my skin at any given moment, yet am glued to my computer desk, hyperfocused on typing and thinking up shit.

I Might or Might Not have just told the spell check feature for WordPress to “eat poo you hunk of filth!” because it is underlining such words as ‘hyperfocusing’ and ‘poo’ as suspect.

I Might or Might Not have concocted this ‘game’ idea to stretch my writing muscle a bit.

I Might or Might Not have thought this Might or Might Not be more funny than it has turned out to be.

I Might or Might Not have grown to loathe and despise this ‘game’ as my list has grown.

I Might or Might Not want to stab this ‘game’ in it’s smug face.

I Might or Might Not want to pour gasoline all over the corpse of this ‘game’, set it ablaze, roast marsmallows in the bonfire then dance on the charred bits before urinating all over the ashes.

I Might or Might Not ever do this again.

I Might or Might not admit that every single one of these damn things is a definite truth, no Might or Might Not about it.

I Might or Might Not be done with this entire exercise.

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