My hair is really getting on my nerves. It rejects style and the color red. Short hair is so limited, but long hair, when thin, is really annoying. I’m in desperate need of a cut and some new color. I really need to make friends with a stylist.

My ass is getting bigger. That, or my dryer is shrinking my underoos. Yeah…that’s it. My waist, on the other hand, is shrinking. I bought jeans and I thought they fit, but after wearing them twice I realized I spent way too much time pulling them up.

My bed appears to have its own gravitational pull for pillows. I could have sworn I just got rid of some. Looking at it today I now have five. Six if you include the body pillow I have stashed in my closet. I’ve tried each one and every morning I still wake up with a sore neck. I’m slowly discovering that the way I lay…lie? lay? whatever. I wake up in a stupid position. This stupid position causes death to my neck. Where’s Mr. Jenn when you need him?

So far each sentence begins with “my.” I thought I’d change things up a bit.

Oh my god. I’m getting old. This is how it starts right? First the body, then the mind! Brain Age told me I have the brain of an 80-year-old! 24 and 3/4 is practically 50!!! Oh sweet nibblets! (Thank you Hannah Montana – don’t judge me!)