Seeing as this is my first article for The Odyssey, I feel like I should totally honest with everyone. Hi, I’m Courtney, and I’m a hot mess. Wow, it feels so much better to say (write) it out loud. Don’t know what a hot mess is? According to Urban Dictionary and Christian Sirano a hot mess is “a person or thing that is spectacularly unsuccessful or disordered”. For years people have been calling me a hot mess, and I've denied it. However, I've come to the realization that I am a hot mess, and there were a few things that tipped me off. So grab you hats, we're taking a ride on the hot mess express!
Something I notice a lot, and I'm not proud of this, but I often find myself running late, or actually being late. Whether it’s class, work, or just hanging out with friends, I find myself running to get to my destination 80 percent of the time. You might see me running (walking briskly) across campus. or cursing under my breath. Why am I always late? Sometimes it's because I oversleep, or because I lose track of time. My lack of time management is a large contributing factor to my hot mess persona. It also contributes to my constant disheveled look.
I EMBODY the phrase "I woke up like this". Mainly because most of the time I did "wake up like that". Here's an example of me in my hot mess prime:
This was taken after doing some community service, and by community service I mean indulging in $2 you-call-its at Ryan's. Most days I walk around with hair that would make Donald Trump look like Rapunzel. Rocking my unbrushed, frizzy hair, along with my high school sweatshirts covered in food stains, it's a small wonder why I'm still single. Some call it disheveled, I call it avant-garde.
The hot mess express does not stop at being late and looking disheveled. The next stop is always losing things. At least once a day find myself without my apartment key, car keys, phone, phone charger, wallet, etc. One day after forgetting my apartment key, my lovely roommate declared “You’re a hot mess”, and she’s right.
Next stop on the hot mess express is the garbage dump that is my bedroom and my car. They're horrendous. My room is so messy, it's embarrassing. I once found an unopened bag of microwave popcorn in my bed. Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart. My car is no better. Full of trash and random pairs of shoes, I am driving a literal garbage truck (2008 Toyota Highlander) into the hot mess hell I've created for myself.
I used to deny being a hot mess, but recently I've learned to embrace it. I'm not proud of it, but I do hope to one day lose the hot mess persona, and finally get organized. Maybe Niecy Nash or Martha Stewart can give me some tips. If you're a fellow hot mess, embrace it! But maybe brush your hair first.
