It seems like everyone had a supremely awful day today. Glad we’re all together.
If I actually get to go to California and see Josh in a week .5 I might just…….. there are no actions appropriate for this situation.
On February 9, 2012 I wrote, “The memory of what I felt is the same and so I can sympathize with it and yet I don’t necessarily understand it anymore.”
Not much has changed.
I vowed to stay in my sweats, watch football and read all day.
But alas, I have run out of milk and I just made a fresh pot of coffee.
Gas stations don’t care if you show up in fathers old house slippers and boyfriends hoodie then pay for $3 milk with a credit card right?
Alone in my house for the week. This is going to be the craziest seven days of uninterrupted pleasure reading in my entire life.
Hellllooooooo library! You lookin’ good.
I’m re-reading something I wrote to you on June 18th of this year at approximately 10:51 in the morning and realizing that I have been struggling to define a feeling that I explained 6 months ago:
” To say that I try to keep everyone around me positive is an understatement. I am laid back, don’t get me wrong, but life is really hard right now. Being lost and yet feeling okay about it, that’s just not normal. And I am logical enough right now to realize this. The type A part of my brain is telling me to freak the fuck out. Where and I going to live? How am I going to pay school loans back? Am I going to be happy? Will I live weekend to weekend and dread or complain my life away? It’s like if I don’t start this process there can be no disappointment. No failure. No phones calls home to family members that are starting to realize I’m not the daughter/sister/niece/granddaughter that they (and I) thought I was. But you will never know if you live in your ignorant bliss, which is kinda the idea. The cliche of simplicity.
I need to take my life back.”
Everything I said six months ago is still a work in progress. And I’m not exactly sure how I feel about that.