This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

This is why we can't have nice things

Let me just clarify.

By 'We' I mean me. And by 'nice things' I mean nutella.

Yes, like a recovering alcoholic I have been forced to make an executive decision about this spread made from angel diarrhoea. Because I cannot stop at just a little bit, I am not allowed to have ANY. EVER AGAIN.

EVER

EVER

EVER

EVER

It's the latest in a relatively new list I have made for myself. A list aptly titled:

 'Things I need to stop doing if I want to live'

The list includes:

- Stop shoving the Q tips so far into my ear.

You all do it too! I know you do! But did you know that you're not meant to put them anywhere NEAR your ear canal? My soon-to-be doctor friend Laura, informed me once that, as an inept, I should never attempt to put anything smaller than my elbow in my ear. The problem here is that it is so damn... satisfying. Sticking the little white stick in, swivelling it around gently inside. Feeling the slight resistance. “THAT'S YOU EAR WAX! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! I CAN HEAR YOU”. And then you take it out and admire your efforts. It's a strange mix of disgust and pride. I mean, it looks gross. But you (or at least I) always have the little thought of like...I made this. This is mine.

Almost like a baby.

- Stop anticipating the pedestrian walk light at busy city intersections

Ah traffic lights. The great equaliser.

I practised at the small ones first, until I thought I'd honed my skills. Soon I was skipping merrily across busy intersections in the city, thinking to the other pedestrians, Oh you silly fools! Don't you know it takes 3 seconds after the lights turn red for the little green man to awaken and glint as us? That's 3 seconds of your LIVES you will never get back.

And then the little green man would flash and I'd feel like the mother trucking pied piper as they all trooped after me, wishing they had my superior road crossing intuition.

I should probably stop doing this. Just in case one day I get it wrong

- Stop driving aroud without my P-plates.

When I first got my P's I was ecstatic. I grabbed a handful of them at the RTA and displayed them proudly. Nearly 2 years on and I am almost at the end of my provisional license years. Whether it be weather, smartass vandals, breakage or simply lost in the vortext which is the open road, somehow I have lost all my p-plates. And I'll be damned if I have to go pick some more up just before I get my full license.

I probably should though. I'll be pulled for an RBT at some point, be fined so hard that I'll be kicked out of home and forced to live on the strets. And die. Probably

The list is extensive. It also includes:

• Just buy a bus ticket at the 7/11 in Sydney like I'm supposed to, rather than consistently walking up to the bus drivers and asking for a ride. One day one of them will snap. And I mean in a serial killer way, not in a chariatable way.

• I must get over the idea that now I have brown knee high boots. Wearing them does not mean I have now automatically become a cowboy, and I may not take justice into my own hands wherever I see fit. Someone is going to seriously kick my ass one day

• Stop rolling my eyes whenever I heard my lecturer talk about 'tinkling glockenspiels'. I'm am paying for this course so it MUST be important dammit!
  
  
• Stop making eye contact with homeless people and not following through with giving them money
  
  
• stop thinking that I can take the stairs at uni. If I had actually trained for Tough Mudder as often as I've thought about training for it, I'd be fit enough to do this. But I haven't. SO I cannot.

I am telling you all this readers, you can can help keep me accountable. Many of the things on this list go against my most basic and primitive instinct and I'll need all the support I can get.