I came to a realization earlier this week. These expectations. Where did they come from? They were mine. I'm a perfectionist. And I put the unrealistic, backbreaking standards on myself.
I prepped for the future. I made major, life-changing decisions based on my plan. And I was constantly disappointed when what I expected didn’t come to be.
I'm a boredom snacker. I get the midnight munchies (more like 9 p.m. — I'm in my 30s, guys). Maybe it's an oral fixation — I just love to occupy myself with crunching and chewing.