(no subject)
Can't sleep. For whatever reason my mind is racing with thoughts of the big bad first Ex. I try to convince my brain to shut it, I don't want to hear it and I'd rather be sleeping. It insists. It's a bitch. I decide to get up and look him up online to make sure he's still alive and doing okay, like somehow that will appease my mind. Maybe it's worried about him. Ugh, such a chore. You can loathe the thought of someone- genuinely wish that you had never laid eyes on him in the first place and still not want him dead or in pain somewhere, right? Right. So it would appear that he's fine. Good for him. Now to try to get back to sleep. I'm so happy I don't work in the morning on Tuesdays. I wish Tim were here and not sailing the world. The need to be touched by the mister who loves me is strong. Just holding a finger would do. 24 days and counting.