Missing Mojo

Sorry for the severe lack in posts lately. Grad school has taken over the better part of my life. Lately, if I'm not at work or school (which happens to be the same place), I want to be in my pajamas, on my couch, very very close to a bottle of wine. This is concerning to me, because even when I have the option to go out, even on a date, I'm not interested.

Did you read what I just said? The person who worries and complains about being single on an almost daily basis is currently not even interested in dating. What is happening to me? Am I going to shrivel up and die alone with my cat? Probably not. More than likely I will eat my way into morbid obesity and end up like Gilbert Grape (with a cat). Still dead and alone, but mainly bloated. Because, even though I'm bogged down with homework and have little-to-no energy, I still manage to find the time to make things like this:

I didn't even use Instagram.

Those were delicious, by the way.  But let's get back to the main issue here: I have lost my mojo. I think. I'm actually not sure if I ever had a mojo. I don't really even know what that is. It sounds like an expensive drink from Starbucks.

MAGICAL CHARM BAG.

Anyway, if I don't get whatever I lost back, shadows will come out of my vagina like that sorceress chick in Game of Thrones last night.


Editor's Note: My friend pointed out to me that Gilbert Grape's mom was the obese person stuck in the house, not Gilbert Grape. Sorry to all you huge Gilbert Grape fans out there.