That’s what you call people like me who take those crazy, out-of-left-field chances. Dangerous. Wild.
So there I am, falling asleep on my couch. It’s 10AM on a Saturday. So what if I just slept ten hours? I’m very seriously considering having some oatmeal and going back to bed for the day. But then my mom calls me back and she’s like—“let’s go out for breakfast!” and even though I’m barely blinking my eyes open-I’m like—“yeah! Let’s do it!”
And I’m sitting at our table, and I’m like—“Yeah, waitress, I’m going to have an iced coffee and who knows? Maybe I’ll sneak into the back and snort some heroin off of your toaster. I’m just full of adventure, today.”
Because who knows? I don’t know. I haven’t had coffee in like three years—so maybe I’ll be fine. Maybe my heart won’t race and my stomach won’t flip and I won’t trigger a migraine—I’ll just have energy and keep my eyes open and maybe we’ll all drop acid and go grocery shopping! Let’s just throw away all our spoons.
Paragliding? Cream cheese? Maybe I’ll make out with a hobo. Chocolate? Kale? I’m impenetrable. I’m headstrong. I’m all those things your momma (and your neurologist) warned you about.
What am I? Insane?
Why don’t we all just order wedding dresses from China—take a loan out from one of those payday places you see ads for on TV? Buy meat from Walmart?
I make bad choices.