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I needed to be in bed three hours ago but I owe you guys a post so here you are, your weekly erratic dose of neuroticism!

I obsess over stuff, like really.
For a whole day I will TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THIS NEW INSERT OBJECT / HANDSOME WORLDLY FASCINATION!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the next day I will tear.it.apart. Meh.

This week’s obsessions include:

MY iPHONE. Yes I got one, exactly 7 days ago. I am one of those. I have started to text and cross-the-road. Today I walked straight into a four-meter-wide red marble hotel column and missed the end of an escalator. The bruising = minimal. The lesson = .. what lesson.

SCRABBLE. An iPhone obsession is a game called WORDS WITH FRIENDS. I check it more than I check my email because I have six on-going games and I am a werd nerd. May I note for the record that just over exactly 7 days ago, I hated Scrabble? The world knew.

BLOONS. My last iPhone obsession and the inciter (is that a word?) of my first iPhone finger cramp. I LOVE THIS FREAKING GAME SO MUCH it has now become the first app I have ever paid for. Just 99 cents for obsessive cross-eyed hyperventilation? DEAL.

BLIP.FM – I know I’m probably the last person on the bandwagon with this one, but it’s like tweeting music. I like scrolling through other peoples lists, and it makes me happy. And if it makes me happy, then it can be that baaaa-aaaahhh-ahh–ahhhd.

BING.COM. I am looking up flights, and BING has this little predictor thing up top that calculates with sometimes devastating accuracy, whether or not the airfare will go down. I think it’s SUCh a cute innovation that even when it’s wrong I give it excuses, and I end up charting and recording a flight-path every day when I have no intention of- Wow I’m kind of really dumb.

ROLL UP THE RIM. Tim Hortons, I love you. I love you so much that every morning I obediently file into one of your franchise stores, and I ROLL UP THE RIM to burn my tongue. One of these days I will ROLL UP THE RIM to BURN MY TONGUE ON A RAV4-WINNING CUP but UNTIL THAT DAY!- I will sacrifice my tastebuds for a little bit of the “what if” dream.

Dear Allergies. Go Fork Yourself.

The End.