"As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off."
Time for some brutal honesty: I'm spoiled, lazy and selfish. I need to grow the fuck up before it's too late. I'm scared that it could be.
And now for some masturbatory self-congratulation: This marks the halfway point in the masters program that so discontents me. Therapy has been great, too. Still working on coming to terms with my issues, but it certainly doesn't feel as hopeless anymore.
In terms of catch-up, let's see if I can manage this well enough. In the past seven months, I've had my heart broken, my spirit crushed, both Colin and my iphone run over. He's okay, but the surgery was prohibitively expensive; I don't care what my family and friends say, it was worth every penny. He's my sunshine. Rehab was two months of sheer hell, but hopefully now we have at least ten to fifteen years. Another rescue cat wriggled her way into my heart: Meredith. She was four weeks old and on her way to be put down in a few hours.
Current events both intrigue and discourage me. I'm fighting apathy, but not hard enough. Finally pushed myself into looking at what I want to do after this degree, and it sounds lovely. However, this time, I'm not going to start hoping until it actually works out. Recently, I met someone really nice. It's a little scary, because that never goes well (not for me or the other party) and I just remember how terrible I am at maintaining something where I'm both healthy and happy... but I smile a hell of a lot more than I used to.
What I've neglected to mention this time are the people that hurt me because they could, the colossal weight of failure and the tattoos.
And now for some masturbatory self-congratulation: This marks the halfway point in the masters program that so discontents me. Therapy has been great, too. Still working on coming to terms with my issues, but it certainly doesn't feel as hopeless anymore.
In terms of catch-up, let's see if I can manage this well enough. In the past seven months, I've had my heart broken, my spirit crushed, both Colin and my iphone run over. He's okay, but the surgery was prohibitively expensive; I don't care what my family and friends say, it was worth every penny. He's my sunshine. Rehab was two months of sheer hell, but hopefully now we have at least ten to fifteen years. Another rescue cat wriggled her way into my heart: Meredith. She was four weeks old and on her way to be put down in a few hours.
Current events both intrigue and discourage me. I'm fighting apathy, but not hard enough. Finally pushed myself into looking at what I want to do after this degree, and it sounds lovely. However, this time, I'm not going to start hoping until it actually works out. Recently, I met someone really nice. It's a little scary, because that never goes well (not for me or the other party) and I just remember how terrible I am at maintaining something where I'm both healthy and happy... but I smile a hell of a lot more than I used to.
What I've neglected to mention this time are the people that hurt me because they could, the colossal weight of failure and the tattoos.