And I say "fuck" a lot. I need to stop that. My grandmother might read this blog one day.
Then again, I say "fuck" around her, too.
I'm going to Hell.
And in other news, check an item off of my life list -- I am now the proud owner of a MacBook. Well, sorta. My job technically owns the MacBook, but since I work for my parents and will probably never, ever leave, I'm probably going to be buried with this thing.
And with the addition of a MacBook to my iCollection, I officially own an iPod, iPhone, iPad (regular and mini) and MacBook.
Did I mention my vast collection of scarves. Also, I own a pair of black chucks. And yes, my glasses are black rimmed. See? I told you I'm a hipster.
When the box arrived today at work, it was sort of anticlimactic, actually. I had yearned for years for a MacBook that the yearning had sort of become my thing. I plotted and planned and contrived different ways to get a MacBook, and there it was. On my desk. It took a full two hours before I actually felt like opening it.
What am I going to do now that this goal is off my list? Granted, I have seven thousand other goals on my life list, but this was high on my radar. Superficial, yes, but a goal within my grasp.
It got me thinking, though, that so much of my life list is rather superficial. But the superficiality is what makes the goals realistic and tangible. Getting the item off of the list, though, wasn't nearly as satisfying as I had hoped. That part made me sad. I was more giddy ordering the MacBook than I was getting it. Maybe it's a sign that I'm evolving -- I don't want things anymore, I want experience. Or maybe it's because, as a pretty consummate Apple fangurl, I'm Appled out.
But it's easy enough to put the MacBook down and focus on what's important: making my little girl say "mommy" again and hanging out with The Trolls; and gazing at my beloved next to me, while I think about how lucky I truly am.