August 5, 2010 by
When I hit my head, and feel really sure that if I go to sleep I won’t wake up because of a massive head bleed.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I tell people that David Muir is the love of my life.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When really bright lightening wakes me up in the night and I feel really sure that aliens have landed.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I know that I saw Rachel McAdams in the bathroom at Nobu in NYC.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I know that I could definitely talk someone out of murdering me.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I tell people that if Zach Braff just met me he would hire me as a writer and I would write hilarious TV shows for him.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I don’t have a doubt in my mind that the mob is somehow involved in everything.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I worry that every inanimate object that surrounds me might really have a brain and feelings.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When it’s important to me that both my shoes be tied at exactly the same level of tightness. No matter how long it takes.
Nobody takes me seriously.
When I write blog posts about nobody taking me seriously.
Nobody takes me seriously. And I LIKE it.
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