Sorry I'm Not Sorry But I'm Sorry

I know that you’re expecting me to start this blog post with the most apologetic of apologies for my pathetic absence, but I’ve decided that from now on, I will be unpredictable.  I will be wild and defy expectations by leaving out that sad little apology, simply because I feel like I’ve reached the point where inconsistent blog posts have become the norm, and therefore, as have the consistent apologies.  And once apologies become the norm and more consistent than my shaving habits, the sincerity of each apology can only diminish until it reaches a point of sadness so sad that only the day after Christmas can compare.

So you see, to spare the world from such sadness, I will no longer be apologizing for my absences.  But I guess in this case, apologizing would have been far easier than explaining the reasoning behind my lack of apology.  And also I guess in this case, my acknowledging the lack of apology is an indirect apology in itself.

On another note, I had the chance to visit a beloved over my much deserved fall break.  But even more than well deserved, this hiatus was much-more-than-much needed.  You see, coming into senior year, I was under the influence that college seniors did nothing but eat, sleep, and exist.  Actually, I'd even go as far to say that the existing wasn't a conscious effort on their part, but rather, they just let it happen.  As a college senior, however, let me tell you something.  Take all your beliefs and prior conceptions of life as a college senior and drop it like it's a Shabu Shabu hot pot, because nothing is what college seniors do on opposite day, and everything?  Everything is what college seniors do on the daily. 

I kid you not, I was Jabril.  For those of you who don't know, which I'm sure is nearly all of you, Jabril is the goldfish my roommate won playing one of those state fair games that you're actually not supposed to win.  No, I'm not nearly half the looker, nor do I live in a 2 gallon-sized mason jar on the granite kitchen countertop, but yes, like Jabril, I was drowning--suffocating in a sea of floating, linear, pink turds--waste, I had inflicted upon myself. 

I was in desperate need of a break and a breath of fresh air--or I guess, being Jabril and all, an air pump to churn the stagnant waters.  Naturally, given fall break and the opportunity to leave my poop-polluted habitat, I seized it.  I booked the first and cheapest flight I could find to Minnesota, and went.  I was in the pursuit of happiness and on the search for some good ol' R&R--Rapid City and Rushmore, with a bit of Minnesota sprinkled in, of course.

Seeing as I've failed to spend my sorry's at the start of this little post, I have one to spare, and so, I'll throw it into my savings account to sit and laze around with the other things that should be used wisely and deliberately.  There is not only a time, but also a place, for savings account inhabitants, and these friends should only be called upon in times of dire need and necessity.

With that being said, I think that it's appropriate to make that withdrawal, because I'm genuinely sorry that I couldn't stick you all in my pocket to experience this midwest adventure with me.  Instead, you'll have to appreciate and experience these flyover states with Jason Aldean and I the only way you can through the interweb--vicariously.

 

Until my next unapologetic post,

Kimmy