Freud Would Have a Field Day with Me
For a lot of reasons. Most of which are probably more pressing than this, but whatever.
I’ve recently come to a conclusion: I am regressing.
As in, to when I was a child. Admittedly, my normal state is generally fixed somewhere between 70 year-old grandma and 15 year-old boy. But now I’m slowly working my way backward.
How do I know this? For the last few months — you know, since I graduated from college and moved back into my parents’ house and onto their couch for several months until I upgraded to squatting in my little brother’s room and settled into the funemployment lifestyle — I’ve had cravings for various kid foods, namely:
-Ritz crackers and cheese
-PB & J
-Kraft mac and cheese, but only in cartoon shapes
If you’ve ever met me, you know this is somewhat alarming. Like, I had literally never eaten a tuna sandwich in my life until I was 19, and even then it was an accident. And today I made one for lunch. A more adult version, in my defense, but still. A tuna sandwich.
I went through a phase a few months ago that I didn’t tell anyone about where I was super into graham crackers. I ate them as a snack. That, combined with my desire for fluorescent orange noodles shaped like Power Rangers or whatever the devil these kids are into these days, briefly had me considering I was pregnant, despite the fact that the last guy to pay any attention to me is currently doing time in a San Antonio Correctional Facility and got my number by accident. It was the only possible explanation.
Until I realized that, hello, I’m just suffering a mental breakdown and becoming a five year-old again. Obviously.
Also, I’m finding myself unusually fond of the color pink.