(no subject)
yes. Ashe is curling her toes with self-restraint while watching pigeons sift through our slightly raucus yard. I don't see how they can find any food out there. The grass is growing too quickly.
The din of growth is hurting my ears.
And now Chief keeps walking in front of the computer screen. Damn her tail!
I keep batting it out of my eyes, but she keeps making her adorable little mewing-humming noise, so I just have to pet her. Damn. I love pussies.
Cats.
So Thursday night I had a migraine and had to forego the contra. I was going to eat something before it completely took control of my body, but . . . alas. . . . . gravity and pain were more powerful than hunger. I ended up sleeping until
CHRIST! There's a beaver-woodchuck-like creature ON THE PORCH. hahahahahhahahah Chief and Ashe are freaking out. And so is the creature.
Anyway. I ended up sleeping until about nine thirty. I woke up with the migraine still hanging to my coat tails, so I was in a daze of pain. Drew got up and shoved a can of chicken soup in my direction. Immediately I got up and started making it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to give me something and for me to just automatically do it. Not that I mind - I love cooking . . . . even if it is canned, processed meat and noodles in faux syrupy-butter. I just realized how very . . . . oldfashioned he and I are. It's not even that I feel suppressed or . . . overpowered or anything like that. I just take to the position of a beaten, raggedy house-wive naturally. It's so weird. I never thought of myself that way. I always considered myself an individual who was herself, and no one else's slave.
We ended up eating the soup. I filed some of my things, then cleaned his desk up and filed his things. Then we ended up watching "The Ladykillers" which wasn't suspensful, scary, or even very interesting.
Bah. Damn Chief.
So I went to bed again pretty early (Drew had to leave at around 8:40 yesterday morning, and I can't really be too loud when he's in bed). I kept waking up. After such a long nap so soon before, I wasn't very tired.
Ashe is complaining about something. They have food. I don't know what her problem is. Maybe she's just horny. I know how she feels. Her teeth are so cute.
So since I couldn't sleep very well, I decided to get up early (as in six thirty in the morning early) and make breakfast. I was going to go for the whole bacon, eggs, pancakes ordeal, but we have no bacon, only a few eggs, and I got tired after mixing the pancakes. (I wasn't really that hungry, anyway). Then woke Drew up so he could have something to eat before he had to go spend lots of money with Colin on their cars.
Damn it. Why am I acting so fucking domestic so suddenly? I know that once you're not living with your parents, you have to do things for yourself, but I feel so unoriginal.
The only problem is that I like it. I like this sense of security; of being what my parents were; of living on my own and yet being able to take care of a friend; of having two babies need (love?), and want me; of being independant.
Is this a bad thing? Am I turning into all that I grew up detesting in older women who give up their lives simply to take care of the daily chores?
What is happening? Surely this can't be what is so commonly called "growing up".
The din of growth is hurting my ears.
And now Chief keeps walking in front of the computer screen. Damn her tail!
I keep batting it out of my eyes, but she keeps making her adorable little mewing-humming noise, so I just have to pet her. Damn. I love pussies.
Cats.
So Thursday night I had a migraine and had to forego the contra. I was going to eat something before it completely took control of my body, but . . . alas. . . . . gravity and pain were more powerful than hunger. I ended up sleeping until
CHRIST! There's a beaver-woodchuck-like creature ON THE PORCH. hahahahahhahahah Chief and Ashe are freaking out. And so is the creature.
Anyway. I ended up sleeping until about nine thirty. I woke up with the migraine still hanging to my coat tails, so I was in a daze of pain. Drew got up and shoved a can of chicken soup in my direction. Immediately I got up and started making it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to give me something and for me to just automatically do it. Not that I mind - I love cooking . . . . even if it is canned, processed meat and noodles in faux syrupy-butter. I just realized how very . . . . oldfashioned he and I are. It's not even that I feel suppressed or . . . overpowered or anything like that. I just take to the position of a beaten, raggedy house-wive naturally. It's so weird. I never thought of myself that way. I always considered myself an individual who was herself, and no one else's slave.
We ended up eating the soup. I filed some of my things, then cleaned his desk up and filed his things. Then we ended up watching "The Ladykillers" which wasn't suspensful, scary, or even very interesting.
Bah. Damn Chief.
So I went to bed again pretty early (Drew had to leave at around 8:40 yesterday morning, and I can't really be too loud when he's in bed). I kept waking up. After such a long nap so soon before, I wasn't very tired.
Ashe is complaining about something. They have food. I don't know what her problem is. Maybe she's just horny. I know how she feels. Her teeth are so cute.
So since I couldn't sleep very well, I decided to get up early (as in six thirty in the morning early) and make breakfast. I was going to go for the whole bacon, eggs, pancakes ordeal, but we have no bacon, only a few eggs, and I got tired after mixing the pancakes. (I wasn't really that hungry, anyway). Then woke Drew up so he could have something to eat before he had to go spend lots of money with Colin on their cars.
Damn it. Why am I acting so fucking domestic so suddenly? I know that once you're not living with your parents, you have to do things for yourself, but I feel so unoriginal.
The only problem is that I like it. I like this sense of security; of being what my parents were; of living on my own and yet being able to take care of a friend; of having two babies need (love?), and want me; of being independant.
Is this a bad thing? Am I turning into all that I grew up detesting in older women who give up their lives simply to take care of the daily chores?
What is happening? Surely this can't be what is so commonly called "growing up".