but this day by the lake went too fast
Alrighty. Sarah's back.
It's 16 miles to the promised land
And I promise you I'm doing the best I can
Now don't fool yourself
In thinking you're more than a man
Cause you'll probably end up dead
After tears of frustration and insomniac emails and ripping my hair out over things I couldn't control, Melissa came to salvage my weekend: a simple text message read something to the effect of, "come to my cabin this weekend." I got it while at work on Friday, and morosely replied that I would be imprisoned until 11:30pm-- she retorted that she would as well, and would plan to pick me up at midnight.
I visit these
Mountains with frequency
And I stand here with my arms out
Now some days they'll last longer than others
But this day by the lake went too fast
It was just what I needed. My patients relatively settled, I hit up the communication lines, planning out booze shopping and rides and inviting more people and canceling my previous plans-- and I even gave Barnes and Noble a call and found a local store with a copy of "As You Like It" that they put on hold for me while I spent my half hour "lunch break" biking over, throwing down a credit card, and biking back triumphantly.
And if you want me
You better speak up, I won't wait
So you better move fast
The players of the weekend were: Myself, Melissa, Julie, Hillary, Molly, Rob, Jesse, and Mr. Allen. And, apparently, I was the only one who brought a camera.
Don't fool yourself
In thinking you're more than you are
With your arms outstretched to me
One unforgettable weekend later, after battling a monsoon home, I found myself flung into the JP-ers that I love (and down a slip-n-slide), back into the arms of the boy that I love, and back planning my last days in the city that I love. Thanks, Rilo.
It's 16 miles to the promised land
And I promise you I'm doing the best I can
Now don't fool yourself
In thinking you're more than a man
Cause you'll probably end up dead
After tears of frustration and insomniac emails and ripping my hair out over things I couldn't control, Melissa came to salvage my weekend: a simple text message read something to the effect of, "come to my cabin this weekend." I got it while at work on Friday, and morosely replied that I would be imprisoned until 11:30pm-- she retorted that she would as well, and would plan to pick me up at midnight.
I visit these
Mountains with frequency
And I stand here with my arms out
Now some days they'll last longer than others
But this day by the lake went too fast
It was just what I needed. My patients relatively settled, I hit up the communication lines, planning out booze shopping and rides and inviting more people and canceling my previous plans-- and I even gave Barnes and Noble a call and found a local store with a copy of "As You Like It" that they put on hold for me while I spent my half hour "lunch break" biking over, throwing down a credit card, and biking back triumphantly.
And if you want me
You better speak up, I won't wait
So you better move fast
The players of the weekend were: Myself, Melissa, Julie, Hillary, Molly, Rob, Jesse, and Mr. Allen. And, apparently, I was the only one who brought a camera.
Don't fool yourself
In thinking you're more than you are
With your arms outstretched to me
One unforgettable weekend later, after battling a monsoon home, I found myself flung into the JP-ers that I love (and down a slip-n-slide), back into the arms of the boy that I love, and back planning my last days in the city that I love. Thanks, Rilo.