A Complaining Post

Maybe it's just my OCD acting up, but lately I'm in one of those moods where I wish I had a really lousy job so that I could yell at my boss and tell him I quit and then storm out and be free to have all sorts of adventures and eat a lot of delicious food. Not that I don't already eat a lot of delicious food. My ma is a great cook.

Now I'm in a conundrum wherein by which I want to complain, but I know I'll feel guilty for it, so I won't, but now I am anyway, so it doesn't really matter, and now I'm thinking that I'll delete this post after I write it, but then I'll feel stupid for not complaining because I let myself bully me into not complaining.

I need a new brain. Not a used one, a new one so I can get the "new brain" smell with cup-holders and stuff.

See, now I feel guilty for complaining. But if I delete the post, I'll feel guilty for letting myself bully myself into deleting the post.

THIS IS MY HEAD. 

But, on the plus side, I'm seeing The Hobbit again tonight. Hooray! And Cabin Pressure comes back tomorrow! Hooray hooray! Except for nobody knows Cabin Pressure except for me and a handful of other British-Airline-Humor Enthusiasts, so it's not as much fun saying that.