I’ve probably never seen you in my life. But I know you. I know you lie.
Yep. Even if you’re the kindest, sweetest cherub in the whole wide world, I know you lie. And I don’t even mean to other people; this isn’t some moral lecture or whatever. You lie to yourself every day.
How do I know this? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we all do it. And because lying to yourself helps keep you sane. And maybe because lying to yourself is awesome and helps you avoid the boring parts of the real world. BOO, REAL WORLD.
I totally don’t do that.
Yeah, whatever. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t identify with any of these thoughts:
“I’m going to go to bed after this episode of *insert addictive show on Netflix here*.”
Okay, yeah. This one seems promising enough—just one more episode, and you’ll finally hit the hay. Except by the end, you’re wide awake because you just need to know if Lily will come back to New York and oh please sweet Jesus just come back because Marshall needs you and WHY WON’T YOU COME BACK PLEASE JUST COME BACK HOW CAN I POSSIBLY SLEEP IF YOU’RE NOT WITH MARSHALL! Before you know it, five hours have passed and your left eye is twitching and you have class in an hour but damn it, at least you know what happened between those two crazy lovebirds.
“That’s it. I’m going on a diet, starting tomorrow.”
Your jeans are starting to feel a little tighter, and you realize you don’t remember the last time you’ve bought a vegetable (real food is expensive!). So that’s it—you’re going on a diet! Nothing tastes better than skinny feels! But…there’s Chinese food in the fridge, and that shouldn’t go to waste, so you’ll start tomorrow. But then your roommate makes buffalo chicken dip the next day, and your only rule in life is that only the clinically insane turn down buffalo chicken dip. And you have to stick to your own rules. Integrity is important. Besides, there are so many things that taste better than skinny feels. And then you proceed to make a mental list of these delicious things on the off-chance that you ever run into Kate Moss.
“I’ll just get up early and do my work.”
You’ve hit a wall with your paper. You’ve written a whole two sentences, and you don’t know what else to write. You decide you’re not in the right mindset to write this paper, as if suddenly this paper isn’t just a boring paper for your business administration class, but a goddamn masterpiece worthy of Kurt Vonnegut. So you set your alarm for 7 AM. Inspiration will come to you in the morning, you say to yourself as your head hits the pillow. And maybe it does, when you wake up three hours after your alarm and frantically bang out your “masterpiece.” Hope Vonnegut liked typos.
“I’ve got my life figured out perfectly. I’ve got a plan.”
As soon as you graduate college / grad school, you’re going to move to a beautiful city, get a beautiful house, and get your dream job. Then you’ll meet some beautiful guy or girl who is perfectly quirky in all the right ways and will introduce you to The Shins. And then the two of you will pop out three kids within ten years. And then you’ll all merrily skip around together and do all the cute things that you pinned on Pinterest, like make your children PB&J sushi rolls and blow bubbles when it’s snowing (in case you were wondering, they freeze and it’s super cool).
“I’m going to go on a run before work in the morning.”
So you’re feeling a little guilty after having some Ben & Jerry’s. (Pro-tip: NEVER FEEL GUILTY ABOUT BJ’s. Insert immature giggle here.) As you put on your pajamas, you decide you’ll go on a run the next morning. You envision yourself jogging—your hair blowing in the wind, your calf muscles flexing like a Greek god(dess), your neighbors peering out their windows and looking at you, all jealous of your initiative and drive. And then your alarm goes off in the morning, and your bed is so warm, and you decide that if you’re this tired, your body obviously needs more rest. And you always listen to your body.
“Okay, I’m not going to let this apartment get messy ever again.”
You realize that you don’t have a single pair of socks left (not even a mismatched pair) because all your dirty laundry is all over the floor. You go into the kitchen to eat to avoid doing your laundry, but there’s not a single fork left because they’re all in the sink. And in the dishwasher. And on the floor. Then it hits you: your apartment is repulsive. So you clean and clean and clean, and everything looks beautiful, and you decide you will never let it get to that point again. You’ll create an organization system, follow it, and then cute animated wildlife will prance and fly in through the windows and help make your apartment sparkle every single morning.
“I’m never going to drink again.”
You wake up in the morning after a particularly interesting Christmas party. But you’re not all that sure if you’ve technically woken up, because your head is in so much pain that you can’t possibly be alive. Your stomach is particularly peeved at what you did to it the night before, and the mere thought of peppermint schnapps makes you want to hurl. You make a pact to yourself that you will never drink again. Which we both know is just hilarious.
…I don’t lie to myself.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.