Clutter

My life is becoming...well...cluttered. Not just physically, because that too. But, mentally. There is Facebook, which I have to read religiously and know what everyone is doing. There is Twitter, which I have to read religiously and know what everyone is doing. I rarely post to either, more to Facebook than Twitter, because, frankly, I don't have that much to say. Then there is my Google Reader, which some days feels like a chore. There are so many blogs. I clean it out from time to time, delete the ones that I dread seeing in the bold font and bring the ones that make me happy to see in the bold font to the top. There is my DVR, full of TV shows that I am not sure I even care about. 

It is all clutter. 

And my house...oh, my house. Closet after closet full of bullshit that we don't even know is there. Prom dresses, you guys. PROM DRESSES. To start, I am no longer a size zero, so I certainly will never be able to wear it again. Also, IT IS A PROM DRESS. And that is just the tip of the iceburg. There is an entire Rubbermaid drawer thingy full of gift bags and tissue paper. For presents I never buy people. There is a fajita maker in the basement, which is essentially just an electric skillet in the shape of a chili pepper. There are mounds and mounds of clutter closing in on us every single day.

It is overwhelming. And then there are the social obligations. The things that I have to do because is the right thing, but I would rather stay home and watch Lost on the couch with the boy. 

My dad calls me everyday asking when I am sending out the invitations for my Graduation party. I don't even want to have a graduation party. Not because I don't want to celebrate. But because it just feels like more clutter. My moms side of the family mixing with my dads side of the family, sitting at opposite sides of the room glaring at each other. Having to go from group of person to group of person being courteous, when I just want to hang out and drink and have fun. Answering question after question about "what's next" when I am not even sure what I am doing right now. 

I mean, I am not high. I know what I am doing right now. I am sitting on my couch in a tank top with no bra waiting for my fries to be done in the oven so I can smother them in cheese and eat them, only to feel ashamed later that I had cheese fries for lunch. 

I mean philosophically you guys.

My whole life just feels like clutter. And I want to curl up in a ball and feel sorry for myself, but I can't. Because I am not a kid anymore. I am months from turning 30. And maybe that is what this is all about...the big 3 - 0. Maybe I am having a quarter life crisis (although, quarter life implies I will live to 120 and eek! the world does not need me around that long.) Maybe that is what the new hair and the new tattoo are all about. Even though I have wanted to do both for years.

I am the happiest I have been in as long as I can remember. I mostly like my job, which, compared to my job makes me want to kill myself on a daily basis, is awesome. I love my friends, both old and new. I love the boy. Hell, I even love my evil ass cat and gassy dog.

So, why all the clutter?  Why the feeling that the walls are closing in around me? Or not even the walls...the "stuff." The stupid, insignificant, I could care less about it, stuff.