Friday, November 30, 2012

Pump the Brakes on that Anxiety


Don't adjust your computer screens - don't panic - this is not a test of your emergency broadcasting system - Whitney has just been hijacked. But don't worry, I promise to make this almost as painless as getting your eyebrows threaded.


For those of you that don't know me, I'm Brooke, and I blog over at Tales From My Fairytales (which Whitney waved her pink sparkly wand over and made look absolutely fabulous).


I'm a cowboy boot wearing, southern speaking, sports loving Kentucky girl with jacked up to Jesus hair, a deep love for Jake Owen, all things outdoor, Mexican food and chocolate. In no particular order.


If you've been around these parts for long, y'all know that our girl Whitney has been blogging about anxiety  - so while she's out doing sparkly princess things - I'm here to talk about how she can pump the brakes on her overwhelming feelings of anxiety.



One
We all know Whitney loves her boxed wine. And who doesn't? But sometimes you can't roll up into the movies, sporting event, trip to the mall or hair appointment with a box of wine the size of small baby. 
I have the solution.


These are roughly 3 glasses of wine - or one and a half Tervis Tumblr's full - they fit in your purse, and are a great way to get your buzz on.

Two
Drown your sorrows in a bathtub full of bubbles. Because don't we all look like this in the tub?

bubble bath
PSA: do not google image bubble bath at work

Fill that tub full of bubbles, turn on the musical stylings of Mumford and Sons (or Lil Wayne), sip a glass of wine and feel the anxiety leave the tips of your toes. If you can find a hot man that resembles Jake Owen to find his way in the tub with you, well, I'm not one to tell you how to spend your time.

Three
Go out dancing with your girlfriends.


Nothing helps me more than dropping it like it's hot. Busting a move or just simply getting my groove on.

Four
Text your girlfriends.
It's team no judgment around these parts. It's great to have a set of girlfriends in your back pocket that you can text about ANYTHING. So if you feel like your curling iron is still burning - text your girlfriend. If you feel like the man behind you is following you - text your girlfriend (that way the police can trace your phone and your whereabouts, duh).

I promise there will be none of this on the other end.



Five
If all else fails - head straight to Chipotle, buy the biggest burrito they have - and eat til your heart is content. 



I'm all about eating some carbs when the troubles of the world feel like they are weighing your shoulders - may as well move that feeling from your shoulders to your stomach. 

Hope this solves all your anxiety-ridden problems today, pretty princesses!

Until next time,
Brooke

Thursday, November 29, 2012

The Inevitable.

Guys. GUYS!
Yesterday? Yesterday was by far the most amazing day I have experienced as a blogger.
So many amazing stories, so many beautiful new faces I got a chance to interact with.
Thank YOU all for sharing your personal stories with me, it was a really incredible day for me.

Here is just a small sample of some of the amazing feedback I received, amongst so many personal emails and comments...

Seriously though, I can't express how grateful I am for each and every one of you stepped forward and found a way to make me feel so normal and not alone. This blogging world is really, really amazing.



With all of that said, I think I have one more thing to cover on this topic before I shove it aside and go back to writing about how I returned a stale box of wine last night...

The inevitable.
Here is my list of the inevitable facts of being an anxiety sufferer:
**Disclaimer: this is all in good fun and is not meant to be taken seriously what-so-ever.

1. You absolutely did leave the oven on and your house is burning down as we speak.
Also, your hair straighteners, Scentsy warmers, irons, etc. They are all on, even after you've checked them 3 times over before you left the house, and you need to go check just one more time because your house is definitely going to be ashes when you get home and your pets will be gone. 

2. Those emails in your inbox will explode permanent ink all over the place, like those security tags, if you do not check it right now.
Yep, that's right, the world can not go on if you don't check your email at 3am, when you wake up tossing and turning, because there is most likely something life threatening in there.
Or, you know, just an email from your long lost Arabian relative who has a large fortune to send you once you respond with all of your personal information.

3. That unsaved number calling you is absolutely an evil monster calling to steal your virtue.
Or your first born, which ever comes first. Yes, unsaved numbers calling your phone are always means for a minor panic attack. I mean, there's no chance it's just a spam caller - even if you are on the national "do not call" list.

4. That semi truck approaching you in the next lane over is absolutely going to tip over on top of your car.
Speed up, immediately think of excuses to tell the cop when you get pulled over and get the hell away from that evil truck. You and your vehicle will be mashed potatoes if that semi gets anywhere near you. Also, don't forget to get out your spare napkins from your glovebox because I know you are perspiring like a whore in church right now.

5. You know that vehicle behind you that just made the exact same 3 turns as you? Yeah, they're absolutely following you.
ABORT MISSION and start making weird turns around the neighborhood until you lose them. This is not a joke, this is serious business. I mean, I know you don't actually watch many scary movies because they evoke many, many feelings of anxiety but this has to be what those movies are about.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.

Today is going to be one of those days I take a break from my typical light-hearted jib jab.
Why? Because there's a real life person that lives under my sarcastic skin, I promise.
A vulnerable and sensitive post.
Oh boy, here she is...


Anxiety. I've got it.
I've got the kind the doctor considers to be moderate to severe.
Moderate on my good days - severe on my worst.
I've got the kind of anxiety that proves to be an every day battle.

Anxiety is a massive bastard. Somedays he even introduces me to his colleague, depression.
It's a battle I didn't even know I faced until I turned 22.
22 is when I realized that getting cut off while driving is not means for a total meltdown on the side of a local highway. 
22 is when I realized that laying in bed at night, mind racing back and forth, panicking about an email box full of mail just wasn't normal. 
22 is when I realized that constantly thinking my house was going to be burglarized while I was sleeping wasn't normal.
22 is when I went and got help. 

Help meaning drugs, if we're being honest.
One drug by the name of Lexapro.
At 22 I began a numbing, empty relationship with a med named Lexapro that lasted for two years.
If you aren't a math buff, as I am certainly not, I'm 25 now and no longer in said relationship.
Why? Well, simply put... "I'd rather be crazy than numb." -My Ty Ty BFF
I am not saying the drugs are bad, because they aren't at all, they simply didn't adjust to my body.

For me the meds took the life out of me. I was empty.
Not sad. Not happy. Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.
Sure, the insomnia was cured. The panic attacks? They vanished. 
I had absolutely no interest in feeling anything.
I wasn't worried about anything. Ever.

Two years of numbness later.. I went off the meds.

Today? Today I have anxiety attacks regularly.
Anxiety attacks stemming from forgetting my lunch at home all the way to not having my rent check turned in at least 5 days prior to the first when it's due.
I still think there's always someone behind me waiting to attack, I still lay in bed stressing about my Brita pitcher that I forgot to refill.
I still carry around my pepper spray like it's a bomb that will inevitably save me from anything.

Yep, mostly I panic about things I know are silly.
Most nights, even with the help of melatonin, I wake up somewhere around 3am worrying about something. Anything. Could be something as simple as bringing something to the post office the next day.
It's a burden, it's an absolute thorn in my life's side, but at least I am feeling.


My relationship with anxiety is an absolute mind over matter thing.
I try meditating when I can't sleep.
I try taking very deep breaths when I feel overwhelmed. 
I try not letting little things effect how I behave.
I try reminding myself that anything good that can happen will happen.

Somedays are great, somedays are not.
Such is the life of the anxiety sufferer.
At this point in life, I'm happy to be able to feel these struggles.
One day? Well, one day I may be fed up with this anxiety and go back on the numbness train.

Today, I try my hardest to be as whelmed (also see: normal) as humanly possibly.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Bow Tree Skirt {Tutorial}

Hey friends, guess what?
Yesterday on my lunch break I went to Hob Lob in search of a tree skirt for Charles, my Christmas tree.
Turns out, tree skirts are a complete rip off.
I'm talking $60 for a piece of fabric.
I don't know about you guys but my budget doesn't have $60 to spare for something I will only use for the next month.

-Insert my ballin' on a budget mindset here-

So, I took a detour and headed to the fabric isle, trying my best to remember all of those things I learned while obtaining that degree I don't use in Fashion Design.
All I knew is that I was not interested in sewing so I really had to pull out my creative juices.

Today, I present...
Here's what you need:
3-4 yards of tulle
Straight pins

That's it. Guys, I made this for under $5.
1. Wrap tulle around the tree stand as if you were prepping to tie a normal bow.
Leave one "tail" longer than the other.
Be sure to surround the tree stand so it's fully masked with pretty tulle.

2. Take 3 straight pins and connect the tulle in the center - like this:
3. Form each side in to a bow shape using straight pins to help keep it's form. 
Be sure to pin the side with the longer "tail" last so that it's sticking out.

4. Wrap your long tail around the center to create the final bow appearance and pin in the back as much as necessary. 
Note: I used a couple of extra pins to tack back extra fabric that stuck out.
Let the straight pins be your amiga, compadre, BFF.

And viola! You have yourself a Christmas tree wrapped in a bow.
Tilted star and all. Just kidding, that's Charles and his swag.


Like it? Love it?

Monday, November 26, 2012

My halls are decked.

Well, hey! It's been a hot minute since I've been around these parts, hasn't it?
Turns out that mixing a gluttonous holiday and a head cold from hell equates to something along the lines of a blogging vacation. Go figure.
Have no fear, I'm back and I have fun pictures to show you.
I know we all love pictures more than reading my random jib jab most days anyways.

So, while I was neglecting this sweet blog o' mine - here's what I was up to...

Friday my mom and I chose to ignore the fact that I was a walking germ ball and headed to the mall for a little Black Friday shopping. Really, I didn't do too much damage.
And then I saw these Ray Bans.....
Damage done.

Ella likes them too.


Saturday was painful to the 100th degree. 
If you don't know why, well, I watched the Florida State vs. Florida game and we lost horribly.
I still love my Noles...
Except now I owe this guy a week full of home cooked meals.
Womp womp. 


Yesterday my halls got decked, or something like that.
I went to a Christmas tree lot and picked out a cute little 4 1/2 footer - which I have named Charles.
(there's a tree on top of my car, for those of you who missed it... *uhem*KAIT*uhem*)

I wrapped Charles in some lights and a bunch of pink and gold ornaments.


I also put some balls in a vase.
Vase balls.

And I made my backdoor a little festive.

Andddddd, I got new lamps. These aren't holiday related at all but my living room is FINALLY coming together. My sofa, ottoman and tv stand get delivered on Thursday and I can't even describe how happy this makes me. Really though.

And really, that's it.
I'm moving real slow today thanks to having the last 5 days off. Oh, and my Florida blood is frozen this morning. Not that you Northerners have sympathy, or anything.

Alright, I'm out of here. See you tomorrow!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I'm thankful for the shades that hide my hungover eyes.

So, it's the day before Thanksgiving and, from what I can gather, the blog world will be dead tomorrow.
To avoid the risk of writing my super thoughtful, and not at all sarcastic, thankful Thanksgiving post and having no one around to read it, I'm going to post it today.
I know, don't all jump out of your seats at once. 


This year I am thankful for...


 the person who figured out that 4 bottles of wine could fit in one convenient box - with a spout.


Day & NyQuil for helping me forget I am, yet again, under the Thanksgiving curse for another year.


Honey Boo Boo, Duck Dynasty, Moonshiners, and every other entertaining redneck reality show.


my washer, which is currently washing the sheets Ella decided to vomit on at 7am this morning.


those of you posting photos of people in tents outside of stores. That shit is hilarious.


green bean casserole, which I am likely to destroy easily 4 servings of tomorrow.


RayBan aviators - for all of the times they have hidden my hungover eyes.


Jenelle's mom from Teen Mom. Barb has some seriously brilliant one-liners. "High! High!"


Blogger for occupying so many hours of my time each day. Except for Saturday & Sunday, duh.


Ty Ty, Brookie, and Samilicious. 'Nough said.


yoga pants that will allow me to stuff my face tomorrow and not feel like I'm going to bust a button.



Eat lots of food tomorrow, loves. I'm out!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

My Thanksgiving curse.

Notice anything new around here? No? Alright then, moving on.

Yesterday, throughout the course of my work day, I began to feel a little tickle in my throat. 
A very unwelcome tickle. 
I woke up this morning feeling pretty shitty and the tickle is a full on sore throat at this point.
Yep, a short two days before the day it's socially acceptable to stuff your face with anything and everything in sight and I'm popping vitamin C like it's my job.

This would shock most - unless you are me.
You see, my Thanksgiving track record is less than impressive. 
After last year's fiasco, I'm convinced I have some sort of Thanksgiving curse on me.
Last year my sweet mother and myself got into a nice little disagreement which caused my eating KFC alone at my townhouse for Thanksgiving. 
Last year, around Thanksgiving time, was also the time I was going through that fun engagement mishap.
Screw the butter knife, the tension that surrounded last year's Thanksgiving could have been cut with a plastic spoon.


Then two years ago I managed to catch the most violent stomach flu I've ever known.
This beast of an illness hit me at 2am on Thanksgiving morning.
Yes, I had a flu that wouldn't even allow me to keep down an ice chip on the biggest eating day of the year.
Who the hell do you have to piss off in the universe to manage that?


Three years ago I decided I was a vegetarian.
Really Whitney? You pick THE HOLIDAY SEASON to go through this short-lived phase?
Yeahhhh, that was some real bad judgement.
Still regretting that to this day. I mean, I was healthy and I DIDN'T eat half of my favorite foods.
I hang my head in shame reminiscing this year.


I plan on kicking this sore throat's ass by chugging hot tea like it's natty light and this is my freshman year of college so that my Thanksgiving this year will break this curse I'm under.
If I don't get to enjoy turkey, stuffing, potatoes, green bean casserole and enough pie to feed a small country this year, I will be quitting this holiday once and for all.

Also, I need to be able to take down a bloody mary or 10.
My dad is the dad who can't handle the pressure of cooking the turkey and ends up having some type of tryptophan meltdown somewhere shortly after the Purina Dog Show ends.
I need some vodka to cushion the inevitable meltdown.

Anyways, here's to vitamin C and my dad's famous "Over the lips, through the gums, lookout stomach here it comes. Yay, God." prayer. 
Go away, Thanksgiving curse.

Monday, November 19, 2012

My favorite physical activity aside from beer pong and flip cup.

Well hey there, party peoples! 
I'm back from Seattle, also known as the trip I spent more time in the air than in the actual town I flew to. If you didn't know, I was there shooting a wedding for two people I have known since we were knee high to a curb. It was a beautiful wedding but considering I left my hotel at 2:30AM yesterday and didn't return to Florida soil until 8:30PM - I can barely remember my own name right now.

With that said, I want to talk about airports and flying.

When I wasn't doing this - 
(Which, lezbihonest, was 9 out of my 10 hours of flight time.)

I was doing my favorite physical activity aside from beer pong and flip cup.
Also known as people watching.

Flying is quite possibly the greatest form of birth control besides attending a small child's birthday party.
 I swear over the course of the 20-something hours I spent in 4 different airports this weekend I saw more child leashes than I've seen at Disney during Christmas time and I've heard more screams than opening night of the Blair Witch Project.

Color me informed - parenthood is no walk in the park.
Though I'm not sure that the one child I crossed paths with that I actually enjoyed will agree. She became my favorite somewhere during a conversation with her bigger brother while she explained that when she grew up she wanted to be a princess and a mom. Homegirl was my kind of peeps, I could tell.

Once I got over the initial shell shock of being in a sea of whining, screaming small people, I settled in my small airplane seat where I was forced to shove my partially broken earbuds in my ears to avoid casual conversation with the seemingly lonely business man sitting next to me.
At least I managed to score a couple of free diet cokes and a bag of stale pretzels.

Killing time on a 5 hour flight can also cause for extreme boredom.
Enter: SkyMall.com
If you've never picked up an issue of SkyMall from your conveniently placed seat pocket you are missing out on some of the world's most insignificant and unnecessary items to purchase ever.

I would personally get serious entertainment if I saw someone lugging this through airport security.
Do you run this thing through the x-ray machine or what?


Leg and thigh massage, anyone?
Thanks to SkyMall you no longer need a significant other. Just strap on these ever so flattering boots and thigh cuffs and prepare to have your world rocked.


Want to teach your cat how to use your toilet? Who doesn't?!
Litter Kwitter... What could go wrong?


Have you ever tried to put shoes on your cat or dog?
No, just me? Well, I can tell you one thing for certain... They won't stand there like this for you.
I once put Ella in a pair of socks and she walked around like each paw was stuck in gum. 


My favorite.
Just because they chose the name "Butch".



Really though, whoever has the job of selecting the products SkyMall carries must have one hell of a creative thought process.

And that's all I've got for you today, friends.
If anyone has an IV of RedBull, feel free to send it my way. 

Friday, November 16, 2012

You really shouldn't have left that bed.

Oh hi there! 

I can imagine your disappointment when you dropped in to say hi to Whitney and found me. Well, Miss Whitney is off skipping through Seattle for the weekend so she's asked me to take over her space for the day. Don't worry you're in good hands, girlfriend is my soul sister after all.


I'm Sami but you can call me Samilicious and you can find me rambling over at Sami's Shenanigans. You'll find a little bit of everything over there from fashion and beauty, to music and weekend updates. But my favorite posts are my snarky ones, the ones with a little attitude.. and that's what you get today!

Today I have a very important topic to discuss with you.. appearance. More specifically.. my own appearance.

You see, I've decided that sometime in the past who knows how many years, a rule came about. This rule states that if you wake up, get ready, and look damn good.. you will not see a single cute boy or run in to anyone you know. But god forbid you decide to throw some dry shampoo in your hair and forget the makeup.. you will almost always run into an ex-boyfriend or your really hot neighbor.


I mean who decided this rule anyways? That's really unfair to all of us women out there. I mean guys don't have bad hair days and they certainly don't use dry shampoo. They jump in the shower for five minutes, get dressed, and go. Then they see us looking all haggardly and go "Hmm, maybe she should have put more effort in to her appearance today!" Pshh as if they know how much effort we really have to put in. Am I right?

My biggest fear is that I will run into a celebrity when I look bad. Say Adam Levine for example. He will be looking all hot and broody like he always does..


Then he will see me and I'll look like this..


He will be all like "Wow, haven't you heard my song? You really shouldn't have left that bed." Then he will be bored and go back to being hot on The Voice and never speak to me again.


All because of the stupid rule that says you will always run into a hot guy or ex boyfriend when you look like crap.

We've really got to get rid of this rule.

Happy Friday friends! Whitney will return to you on Monday, but until then feel free to come visit me over here. Have a great weekend!

Thursday, November 15, 2012

More shameful than Instagramming a Starbucks cup.

Social media makes the female species do some weird things.
Weird things such as duck lips, strange poses and painfully awkward selfies.

What is it about these social media sites that sends our species in to this vain mentality all so we can have the most stunning default photo? I mean, this stuff is super im-por-tan-te these days.
And before you all get in a tizzy over this, I am fully admitting that I am one of these chicks myself, so uncross your arms and keep the eye rolls to a minimum. It's all going to be ok.

But really, when did we start thinking that smooshing our faces tightly together, while pursing our lips was a cute look?
Exhibit A:
This face screams "I JUST SMELLED SOMETHING REAL FOUL!".
Certainly not a face fit for a default yet after a couple vodka sodies, something inside of me comes out and this is the look I going to give the camera 98% of the time.
Why? Perhaps the bartender put a little too much lime in my drink. Or maybe I just know I will look too drunk to taken attractive photo.
Or maybe, just maybe, I'm in such a messed up state of mind that I think I actually look attractive.


Then, somewhere during this craze of taking and posting photos of every move I make, I picked up the lean.
Not to be confused with the bend and snap.
Exhibit B:
This is not to be taken lightly.
I saw myself in this photo and actually, physically cringed.
What IS THAT lean?
I mean, obviously multiple shots of Fireball Whiskey were consumed prior to the taking of this photo, but since when does Whiskey make me want to prep for a full on backbend while taking a seemingly innocent photo with a friend at a tailgate?

Dear The Lean, We're finished. It's not you, it's me.
Sincerely, Whitney

What happened to the days where we'd take all of these cute photos with our friends like this?
Harmless and no traces of The Lean in sight.


What's with awkward selfies? I mean, I know as far as personal things go, most times I commit the selfie crime it's because I'm just so excited I actually did my make up.
Exhibit C:
I mean, it doesn't get more vain than this. I can SEE my arms clearly taking this photo of me.
And yes, I definitely used this as a default for a hot minute.
I feel ashamed. More so than if I were to go instagram a photo of my red Starbucks cup right now.



However, the hand on the hip? Guilty as charged and it isn't going anywhere.
I mean, if I could rock it in the 80's - in a tutu, none the less, I think It's allowed to stick around.
Plus, I obviously knew what I was doing, trying to slim that baby fat. You know.



From my research in this particular department I have found that the new ducklips is the over-the-shoulder-look. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten drunk enough to participate in this one so I have no photo evidence of myself committing the crime.

___

On a less shameful note (or very shameful since this is a total plug), the infamous PLL invited me to blog for her today and I think you should go check it out.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

My 100th post isn't really a post.

As promised, I set my bedroom up in to a super technical funzone for vlog making in celebration of my 100th post.

Technical funzone photographed below:

Which actually sounds like a real cop out (or really naughty) - now that I think about it.
I'm really not even writing for my 100th post. Whatever, let's roll with it...

Here goes nothing:


Incident = spilled wine all over Charlie Sheen's face. Oops.


I can't watch this vlog, the sound of my own voice is weird.
Weird like seeing your reflection in the mirror for the first time.
I also realize I'm actually very annoying. So... There's that. My apologies.
I'll stick to writing from now on.


Thanks to all of you who asked me questions and super thanks to those of you who have stuck around to read even just 50 posts. This thing is really starting to get fun!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

My life has gone to the dogs.

Somewhere between the hours of 4 and 5am last night, during a fit of my routine insomnia, I got a pretty feisty evil eye from a 3 pound Maltese because I moved. 
So, naturally, I laid in the most uncomfortable, stiff position for the rest of the night to avoid being on the receiving end of those beady little evil eyes once again. Of course, it got me thinking...

My life has gone to the dogs.

These two dogs, to be specific.

The three of us share one king sized bed and somehow it seems I'm the one out of place.
I get kicked by Ella multiple times through the night, as if I'm invading HER space.
Maybe I belong on the floor? But then I'm pretty sure we'd have one empty king sized bed and one crowded floor. 
Riddle me that.

I've also become a literal human dog bed at some point during these last 6 years since bringing home my beloved first born, Ella.
Why lay in those pricey, plush little beds your human purchases when you can get a living, breathing human?
Clearly, these two are far too superior for something as juvenile as a dog bed.
Mom Bed, hashtag for the win.


Sleeping up to the last possible 20 minutes before work is only an option if I want to be late for work.
Because we have to do this for at least 15 minutes every morning.
This is normally when I scare my neighbors away with my desirable bed head and stylish jammies.
Shame? What shame?
Let's not forget, I'm the one with the dog who shedoobies on people's doorstep.


Any time I try and be all vain and send a girlfriend a mirror shot of an outfit I'm thinking about wearing, these two photo bomb me like a tourist at Disney.
I mean, what #ootd photo is complete without a dog's ass?
None of mine are, that's for damn sure.


I've also come to realize that no homemade meal is complete without this audience:
They're my biggest fans and I always get a standing ovation from them.
Even more so when they get in on the taste testing - but we try to keep that to a minimum.
You know, to avoid the whole sick as a dog thing.

They're just lucky they have snuggle skills that put most human's snuggle skills to shame. 




______




PS. I just realized, like an idiot, that tomorrow is my 100th post. If I get enough questions I'll do a vlog. Ask away... feel free to email, tweet and/or comment.
Spanks! 

Monday, November 12, 2012

The red headed stepchild of weekdays.

Guess what? It's Monday, the red headed stepchild of weekdays. The polar opposite of Glen Coco.
None for Gretchen Wieners Monday morning.

This probably comes as no surprise to those of you who trot around these parts of interwebbage often, but I'm not one to plan blog posts ahead of time.
Scheduling blog posts sounds about as exhausting as a Monday morning to me.
Hell, I'm lucky if I can think straight in the mornings to form a complete sentence.
So, Monday should be the easiest day for me to come up with a topic, right?
Wrong.

Aside from a 3 hour wine and Skype date with my dahling Samilicious (and Lily),

and a going to a beer festival for a couple hours,

I did nothing worth talking about here. Unless you want to see me looking like a satellite dish with an industrial box of aluminum foil in my hair. Just kidding, I'm not posting that here. You can find it on the twit machine if you're looking for incriminating photos of me. 

Insert blogging crash and burn.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take down some Go Go Juice and try to be productive.
Notice I said "try"... I think we all know productive probably isn't going to happen.