01.06.05
Don't really care about the things that you say
I don�t know what to write. This is more an entry out of obligation than out of desire to share something. I never seem to make it more than a few months at a time on this thing, although maybe I�m just having a slow week. And slow it is. It�s only been three days, but sitting here for eight hours everyday seemed long and boring this week.
Life has returned to normal, I signed up for a GMAT course, Steve is still on vacation and finally getting to relax, turns out the girl I wanted to sublet has decided not to and I�m not sure what to do about that situation.
I wake up to an alarm, climb out of bed, pee, shower, get dressed, take boiled eggs to work, eat pizza pockets for lunch. I go home to supper and sex, to a sweet boy. We watch movies or read, talk, touch. Unfortunately, that�s the part of the day that goes the fastest.
Life is slow, but good. Quiet, but I like that. I�m going to stop drinking for a while because my body has told me a thousand times it doesn�t like it when I do. And waking up regretful every time may mean it�s time to start listening. That said, next weekend we are going to go see K-OS, and every Saturday for the next six weeks is booked.
I know that before I�m ready it will be March 27, and my boy will be leaving. I�ll be left with his dog and his things and his smell, which I suppose will have to be enough for the following six months. The weekends will go too fast and the weekdays too slow. Time will soldier on, as she does without remorse, spring then summer will come and go. There will be rain and blue skies, eventually rugby and hot summer afternoons. There will be looking for a new house, there will be moving and settling in again. There will be hushed conversations about a life spent together and babies and puppies. There will be smiles and tears, as there always is.
Before all of that, though, there is winter and a harsh cold yet to come.
wunderwuman at