The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I am a spaz, because my mother is a spaz. It’s like when you eat your whole chipolte burrito bowl even though you got extra EVERYTHING and people judge and you’re like “I’m fat. I know. I accept it. Let me do life.” That’s how I’ve accepting being like my mother. I’m a spaz like my mother. I know I am. Let me do life, except I then secretly dread knowing that I’m like her.
We were at dinner and I was telling her my struggle of the day which was trying to mail this package to my boyfriend in Japan. When she laughed and out of the crook of her mouth said “you should write a blog.” So I thought “why the f*** not?” And here we are internet. Welcome to the life of Hanna Mitchell.
I’ve tried writing blogs before in my emo-pop middle school years – which of course was on tumblr (I think it’s still out there somewhere…), but my immaturity and lack of attention span led that to be a fail. So several years later we’re going to try for round two.
