it’s a nervous habit

About a month ago, I wrote that I was going to “try something new” when I had the time to. Well, obviously, I haven’t had time. And right now, I should actually be sleeping because I have to get up early in the morning. I have to give my sister a ride to school because she has to be there early for a field trip, and then I’m (finally) going to take my car to a mechanic to try to figure out what on earth is wrong with it and pray that it doesn’t cost me too much, especially with Christmas being in less than a month, and what I have planned for certain peoples 😛

But moving right along.

The thing I wanted to try is free writing. I’m sure some/most of you have heard of it. Just start writing something, anything, on a piece of paper, and eventually you’ll get to the crux of something that’s actually worth reading. Or maybe you’ll end up with a bunch of mindless blather. Either way, it makes for a semi-decent diary entry. But like I said, I haven’t had time recently. Or perhaps I haven’t had patience. For me, I know, I have to write a LOT of crap before something good comes out. And this, even this, I doubt will be any good. I don’t even know what I’m writing about.

I wanted to write about my toothbrush. I don’t think you quite understand the importance of my toothbrush, and why I was soooo mad that my sister used it. I mean, yes, anyone would be mad if their toothbrush was used for purposes other than the brushing of their own teeth. But for me, brushing my teeth is more than just personal hygiene. It’s a nervous habit. Maybe it’s an addiction. When I’m excited, or anxious, or nervous, I brush my teeth. It calms me down. Better for you than alcohol or a cigarette, right? The night that my toothbrush was used was THE night that I found out that Hopkins was taking me back. I was excited, needless to say. Bouncing off the walls, is probably a more accurate term. I was jittery, anxious. I needed something to calm me down. I needed a drin– er, cig– er… I needed to brush my teeth. I walked into the bathroom. I reached for my toothbrush, and… and… and… NOTHING. My toothbrush was GONE. It was in that instant that I realized what smokers must feel when they reach for their pack of cigarettes and realize that it’s completely empty. Yes. I am addicted to brushing my teeth.

Hello my name is Jen, and I’m a toothbrushaholic.
chorus: Hi Jen!!

That having been said. I’m off to brush my teeth. I swear I don’t need it. I could quit anytime I want to! 😛