One more month
I have exactly one month left at work. I've been there for almost three years. It's sort of surreal. I have 6 weeks left in seattle. Time is flying by. I register for classes in a couple of weeks.
It's the end of June. Marc and I broke up exactly a year ago (stopped living together 8 months ago and got back together 3 months ago). This past year has brought a lot of sadness. Many changes within myself and without. I believe all for the better but sometimes i'm not sure. It's made me stronger, more sure of myself and what I want and that's good.
I'm still in my work clothes. I spilled a bunch of sauces on myself tonight. I feel sticky and stinky and gross. I need to change.
I'm wired right now. I should have a beer and settle. I can't decide if I should stay at Marc's or go home. I need his presence right now, I desire his company at the moment. He's asleep in the hammock, cocooned like a caterpillar in his sleeping bag. Part of me desires to be in my own space. I can vaguely feel the cats calling me to feed them. I don't think I fed them before I left for work. Though they won't starve if I don't make it home until the morning. There's a strong desire to put on my pj's, grab his last beer, and curl up in the hammock with him. There is something soothing about sitting next to someone you love while they sleep.
It's the end of June. Marc and I broke up exactly a year ago (stopped living together 8 months ago and got back together 3 months ago). This past year has brought a lot of sadness. Many changes within myself and without. I believe all for the better but sometimes i'm not sure. It's made me stronger, more sure of myself and what I want and that's good.
I'm still in my work clothes. I spilled a bunch of sauces on myself tonight. I feel sticky and stinky and gross. I need to change.
I'm wired right now. I should have a beer and settle. I can't decide if I should stay at Marc's or go home. I need his presence right now, I desire his company at the moment. He's asleep in the hammock, cocooned like a caterpillar in his sleeping bag. Part of me desires to be in my own space. I can vaguely feel the cats calling me to feed them. I don't think I fed them before I left for work. Though they won't starve if I don't make it home until the morning. There's a strong desire to put on my pj's, grab his last beer, and curl up in the hammock with him. There is something soothing about sitting next to someone you love while they sleep.