No spoilers, I promise.
I miss you now
I guess like I should have missed you then
My body moves
Like curtains waving in and out of wind, in and out of windows
I can't untangle, I can't untangle
What I feel and what should matter most
I can't get close and I, I can't get close
And now there's just no point, in reaching out for me
In the dark, I'm just no good at giving relief
In the dark, it won't be easy to find relief
And I'm not proud that nothing will seem easy about me
But I promise this
I won't go my whole life telling you I don't need
Greg and I bought our Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows books on Sunday afternoon after taking Poopie (my cat) on her field trip to my place of employment (which she thoroughly enjoyed. I think). My plan was to read my copy Sunday night and all day Monday, and be done the book by the time I worked next, on Tuesday morning. That turned out just fine, since I finished the book this afternoon, and you'd think I would've gone to bed early tonight, content with knowing I'd finished the book and didn't have to tiptoe around everywhere to avoid spoilers anymore. But no, instead I've started re-reading book six, because I can't get out of the whole Harry Potter mindset and I'm desperate for anything Potter-related to amuse me. And now it's almost 2am.
I had an exhausting weekend filled with too many birthdays (Brendan's, Bayley's, and Karl's) and too much liquid doom. Even so, it was much fun. I work eight hour days this week so I doubt I'll be doing much of anything besides working and taking care of the pony (and riding her, and my bike, as I've been doing again lately). I don't know how you people work eight hour days, five days a week. The whole "four days on, four days off" thing makes a lot more sense to me.
This weekend: the fireworks? 11th month anniversary celebrations (it was the 23rd)? Night market perhaps?
Too bad I have no money. Like literally four dollars. I piddled away my last paycheque on my hair and, uhh, whatever else that several hundred dollars went to. I honestly don't remember. Time to check my bank statement perhaps.
So here I am, at two in the morning, reading old Harry Potter books even though I know how the whole frikkin series ends, a little overdue for a shower (you can't read under water), needing to be awake in seven hours (for some of you that may seem like a lot, but I need at least ten hours to feel remotely human the next day), and posting on my livejournal. Why. Am. I. Not. Sleeping.
I guess like I should have missed you then
My body moves
Like curtains waving in and out of wind, in and out of windows
I can't untangle, I can't untangle
What I feel and what should matter most
I can't get close and I, I can't get close
And now there's just no point, in reaching out for me
In the dark, I'm just no good at giving relief
In the dark, it won't be easy to find relief
And I'm not proud that nothing will seem easy about me
But I promise this
I won't go my whole life telling you I don't need
Greg and I bought our Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows books on Sunday afternoon after taking Poopie (my cat) on her field trip to my place of employment (which she thoroughly enjoyed. I think). My plan was to read my copy Sunday night and all day Monday, and be done the book by the time I worked next, on Tuesday morning. That turned out just fine, since I finished the book this afternoon, and you'd think I would've gone to bed early tonight, content with knowing I'd finished the book and didn't have to tiptoe around everywhere to avoid spoilers anymore. But no, instead I've started re-reading book six, because I can't get out of the whole Harry Potter mindset and I'm desperate for anything Potter-related to amuse me. And now it's almost 2am.
I had an exhausting weekend filled with too many birthdays (Brendan's, Bayley's, and Karl's) and too much liquid doom. Even so, it was much fun. I work eight hour days this week so I doubt I'll be doing much of anything besides working and taking care of the pony (and riding her, and my bike, as I've been doing again lately). I don't know how you people work eight hour days, five days a week. The whole "four days on, four days off" thing makes a lot more sense to me.
This weekend: the fireworks? 11th month anniversary celebrations (it was the 23rd)? Night market perhaps?
Too bad I have no money. Like literally four dollars. I piddled away my last paycheque on my hair and, uhh, whatever else that several hundred dollars went to. I honestly don't remember. Time to check my bank statement perhaps.
So here I am, at two in the morning, reading old Harry Potter books even though I know how the whole frikkin series ends, a little overdue for a shower (you can't read under water), needing to be awake in seven hours (for some of you that may seem like a lot, but I need at least ten hours to feel remotely human the next day), and posting on my livejournal. Why. Am. I. Not. Sleeping.