an open letter to myself.

dear youmeself,

listen.

you really have to cut it with the facebook stalking.

yes, it's totally understandable that you have lots to do that's not facebook stalking and that you feel like dookie and so don't want to do any of it, and that mustering the will to engage your brain is, at times, difficult, but really.

what can you possibly gain from constant facebook gazing?

yes, it's fairly [insert appropriate adjective here that is neither judgmental nor supersupportive but is rather fairly neutral since that's how you feel] that they only dated for a week before they got engaged, but there's nothing more to see there.  move along.

and, yes, it's possible that something amazing will happen on there, but probably not in the 30 minutes since the last time you logged on.  it's doubtful that a baby has been born, or an interesting set of news feed items have cropped up.

read a book. do a puzzle.  watch a movie. take a nap, for crying out loud. 

step away from the stalkbook. 

sincerely,

the better part of you that's currently being drowned by the boredom of yuck-feeling and the absence of real cable.

ps--why do your abs hurt? have you been working out secretly in your sleep?  creeper.