Why do I do That?

I’m sitting, rather sleepily, bent over a black keyboard with one peg stand missing, so every time I punch a key the keyboard wobbles obnoxiously. I know what you’re thinking: “Put the lone peg stand down, Allison! Lay the keyboard flat!” I truthfully can’t, though! It is such a simple solution, but my pride honestly won’t let me be defeated by a broken keyboard. I mean if I can’t type on a wobbly keyboard, how will I ever hike the Appalachian Trail?
Well, in honor of my irrational inability to type on a flat keyboard, here’s a list of things I consistently do that are obviously not excellent for my composure, leaving me to ponder, “Why do I do that?”
Adele just released her new song, “Hello,” and if you have even glanced at the internet lately you have heard the song. It is a JAM [a very sad, sob-provoking jam]. I have already listened to the song roughly 169 times, so it is soon to be ruined for me. Why do I do that?
Last night I spent a total of two hours watching videos of Ellen Degeneres scare guests on her show [you should honestly YouTube this because it is hilarious], deferring my hour of sleep to 2 a.m. Not to mention the sheer productivity wasted—the grad school and job applications and essays and research tossed aside to watch celebrities shriek in fright. Why do I do that?
This morning I heated up a mug full of water in the microwave, you know, for jasmine tea. When I removed the mug from the microwave, I watched the water slowly settle to simmer, I saw the steam pouring over the rim of the tankard [there’s a fun word for ‘mug’ for you], and I still waited only thirty seconds before attempting to drink the tea. I currently can’t taste anything. Why do I do that?
I openly admit that I tremendously enjoy Justin Bieber’s new music. Why do I do that?
When people ask me if I have a significant other, I respond with, “I have a cat,” quite seriously. That can’t look good in anyone else’s eyes but my own. Why do I do that?
I never untie and tie my shoelaces; I just slip the shoe over my foot. The result is tragic every single time: a pair of shoes where the heel is either folded down, so it acts more as an awkward, out of season sandal, or shredded so I can stick my fingers through the back of it like a loop in your coat to hang on a hook. Every time I go to slip my shoes on I know what I am doing, I know the disaster I am inevitably creating, but I do it anyway. Why do I do that?
Lastly, and more seriously, I sometimes fail to realize what an incredible and fortunate position I am in in my life, for no other reason than circumstance. In the past three weeks, I have been to Toronto, Boston, and Philadelphia with some of the best friends I am ever guaranteed to have. I had the opportunity to attend school here in NY, 1,000 miles away from where I was raised in Alabama, giving me invaluable memories and experiences. I laugh and witness incalculable moments of love every single day. So why do I do that? I did not work for these things, I do not deserve these things. Why do I constantly let irrelevant, trivial things under my skin until I can’t focus on anything else, until I forget the love and joy and support and peace my family and friends have given me these past four years?
To quote Kurt Vonnegut: “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’”
Why don’t I do that?