New things. New chapters, Same old tired.
Today I start my second job.
Well... today I go and get my drug test done for my second job. I have a full time waitressing position now, I will be working full time day shifts at this new restaurant downtown. I am also a full time student with ZERO chance of getting an A in French.
I have this new job and things sound like they are going to be really okay for once... but I'll be damned if I'm not nervous. I don't want to do these things, they make me ill just to think about how much time it is all going to take.
A few weeks ago one of our adopted Dunfee's, a stray that is like a brother to all of us was in a heinously bad car wreck. He has been on lifesupport, in a drug induced coma for weeks in the ICU. This weekend he finally had his last (5th) chest tube taken out and is officially off the respirator. I really want to talk to him. I just can't figure out what to say.
I feel like it's important, you know? I'm nervous about my day. French class, drug test, brother, social devience, drinking with the Neels.
I am a busy girl. And all I really want to do is clean and rearrange my apartment and pay my electric bill.
When did I get to be such an old hermit? When did staying home and nesting in the quiet relaxation of your apartment become more appealing than getting drunk with old friends? It seems I have made a transition, albeit not a smooth one. Now I just want my house to be clean and look like I actually live here.
Oh well, I drink some coffee and things will sort themselves out.
Well... today I go and get my drug test done for my second job. I have a full time waitressing position now, I will be working full time day shifts at this new restaurant downtown. I am also a full time student with ZERO chance of getting an A in French.
I have this new job and things sound like they are going to be really okay for once... but I'll be damned if I'm not nervous. I don't want to do these things, they make me ill just to think about how much time it is all going to take.
A few weeks ago one of our adopted Dunfee's, a stray that is like a brother to all of us was in a heinously bad car wreck. He has been on lifesupport, in a drug induced coma for weeks in the ICU. This weekend he finally had his last (5th) chest tube taken out and is officially off the respirator. I really want to talk to him. I just can't figure out what to say.
I feel like it's important, you know? I'm nervous about my day. French class, drug test, brother, social devience, drinking with the Neels.
I am a busy girl. And all I really want to do is clean and rearrange my apartment and pay my electric bill.
When did I get to be such an old hermit? When did staying home and nesting in the quiet relaxation of your apartment become more appealing than getting drunk with old friends? It seems I have made a transition, albeit not a smooth one. Now I just want my house to be clean and look like I actually live here.
Oh well, I drink some coffee and things will sort themselves out.