unoriginal blog part thirty-three.

I can't even pretend to be unhappy.
Not that that is something that I would be attempting to pretend.

Aside from the fact that taxes are supposed to be done tomorrow, and I haven't even started, everything is going better than I could have imagined.
And, I may be able to finally replace my laptop screen in the next few weeks.

Apparently, she's following through with her heart diet.
I call her every day and ask her what she's eaten, and what her exercises were for the day.
I feel like I'm the mom, but she can get over it.
She is not someone I am going to lose without a fight.

Work is even going well, and I have a Saturday off.
Like I said, everything is going well.

But, the next time I have to sleep in my own bed is going to be strange.
Its been so long since I've slept alone, or in my own place, and there are so many boxes my room is still more like a storage facility than a room.
Tonight will probably be that night.
I hope my cat doesn't suffocate me in vengeance.

Spending time with you gets better every day.
I don't even mind having to walk a few blocks back and forth to get my stuff.
And the more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you.
Addiction really is the best word.
Someone asked me how I felt about you, if I was in love with you, or what.
Love felt like an understatement.
I believe it's best described as stupid.
I am stupid for you.
And this is absolutely not a complaint/bad thing.

You make me smile more than I have ever smiled before.
The way you touch me, and look at me, I cant even explain what it does to me.

You're my very own drug.

And listening to you play drums, or your guitar inspires me.
You inspire me.



I love finding new music. Or just new songs by old favorites.

I haven't written in a while, nor have I worked on my book.
I have my whole life to do this, right?
Whats the rush?

(If no one has noticed, I procrastinate. A lot.)


I'm writing this right now. I'll probably hate it.

They think they're happy
They believe themselves to be free,
But what they don't know
Is everything I see.

Too young for that color,
To old for that man,
No one stopped to tell them
Life doesn't follow a plan.

She's too young to notice
That he's too young to care,
And when the honeymoon is over
They'll wonder why they're there.

Babies buying dresses,
While grandma picks out shoes.
They will walk down the aisle
Before they've built their views.

Become the person you aspire to be
For no one but yourself.
When you make yourself happy,
You won't waste away on someones shelf.