I am a quirky brunette who wears glasses, so I find this picture both perfectly appropriate to represent both me and my outrageously-out-of-proportion-with-reality mood.

And seriously, if you have soft pretzels, place them on a plate, put that plate on the ground, slide it toward me, and run for the hills, because I will pounce on that nonsense like a hungry lion after a weak gazelle. Include a Diet Coke and I won't chase you down after I've devoured my soft pretzel. Although all bets are off if you do any of the above actions while asking me a stupid question, such as "Why do I have to do this?" or "Where is the non-fiction section?"

Honestly.

I really am not sure why. Probably because I'm in a little bit in pain, and my hair doesn't have any bounce, and it's freaking freezing outside even though it is the 23rd of April. And maybe I'm just tired and tired of being broke.

Oh I don't know, My Imaginary Boston Terrier. I'm just not fit to be around people today.
Also, I'd like someone to buy me this Vacation to Iceland.

So, bad things happened last week.

Work was cancelled on Friday because of the "public safety emergency," i.e., the manhunt for the suspects in the Marathon bombing. And although I was well outside the lock-down zone, I didn't feel like I was able to leave my apartment. I woke up to a flurry of concerned texts asking me where I was, and one informing me about work being closed. So of course, I turned on the news. From that moment on, I couldn't seem to turn off the television. For much of the day it wasn't changing. It just kept cycling through what happened on Thursday evening, the faces of the victims, the timeline of how events went down, and the fact that the "shelter-in-place" order was still in effect for the Boston metro area. There were no interruptions in the coverage for what happened in West, Texas or any other part of the world. Not even a break for the weather report.

A handful of my friends were closer to what was going on. They were in Boston, stuck inside. Like I said, I wasn't, but I might as well have been. I was just tense all day. Around 3 in the afternoon, my mom showed up and took me out for a late lunch (I'd been so obsessed watching the news I hadn't eaten anything). I spent the rest of the afternoon with my parents, watching the same news, but it was somehow better to be around them then by myself. Just as my dad was taking me home, they announced they'd captured the second suspect.  I thought once they made that announcement I would literally breath easier, but...not so much. In a way, a handful of normal days later, I can still feel a lingering tension in the air.

Maybe it will get better when they know why the bombings happened, or whom else, if anyone might be involved. Maybe once there are more vigils, more acknowledgement of the victims both living and not, more tributes by sports teams and 70s icons. I'm not sure. I hope that the city, and everyone involved, heals quickly.

Last night, a small group of friends got together for a potluck. We all had "I was stuck inside" stories. So we swapped stories, ate an obscene amount of pasta (we had some yummy peanut pasta, stuffed shells, and mac & cheese as our main dishes), and played a dozen plus rounds of "Cards Against Humanity." Because there's nothing like a little gallows humor to make everyone feel better.

I did not win millions in the lottery this weekend, so today I went back to my jobs. Sigh. It continually amazes me that my life plan to win the PowerBall and retire to a private island with my own giraffe has not come to pass.

Because, really, I would rock at being an eccentric millionaire. I would do all kinds of crazy things, like fund a flight to Mars for a group of penguins, and market a line of Melissa dolls, which would be like Barbie dolls without the ridiculous measurements, but with the set of unrealistic career expectations (make money as a writer! ha.) Whirlwind trip around the world to buy a jar of Nutella in every conceivable country? I'll get my spoon.

I think everyone probably has that mental list of things they'd do with a lot of money. Whenever the jackpots for the lottery get really big, that's all anyone talks about. It's lots of "I'd buy a house for every member of my family," and "I'd pay off all my debts." I like to keep my expectations just a bit higher.

Which is my long-winded way of saying, I've been thinking a lot about money lately. I feel like I'm on the verge of being a lot more financially solvent, but... just not right now. Soon. I can see the light at the end of proverbial tunnel. It's weak, but it's there.

Since I doubt I'll find myself rolling around in piles of money anytime soon, I've been thinking practically. Little house. Little dog. One job, not two.

I've gotten some big debts down to an amount where I can see that I'll be free of them within a year. My school debt will hang around my neck like a loadstone until I'm chasing old men around my nursing home on my motorized scooter, but that's what I get for having the presumption to be a sorta-smart girl in a country where higher education is a business, not a right. I can live with that. The other stuff, not so much.

However, I contend, all this practical thinking is totally at war with my character, which insists that I was meant for bigger, infinitely sillier things. Like building the world's most extravagant tree house, complete with waterslides and a perpetual supply of puppies to play with when the mood strikes.