just another manic monday
contested divorces, fueding families, and republican campaign propaganda; such is the substance of my work day. i listen to people whose problems i cannot solve and whose lives i do not envy. one-sided stories and half-truths. . . weird that my little desk plays a part in these warped wars. stephen bought a stuffed sea otter for me. i named him Oscar Wilde Otter. mmmhmm. i meant to bring him to work to cheer me up in the sometimes doom and gloom atmosphere of this place. he sits under the lamp at home; waiting.
i seem only to be able to sleep soundly when my chin is resting on stephen's collar bone and my nose smushed up against his neck. recent nights have been mostly sleepless. no amount of trazadone can put to sleep my obsession with the beat of his heart and the sound of his breathing. . .sigh. . .
. . .counting the minutes until lunch time. 63, to be exact. 63 minutes until my next cigarette. 361 minutes until i see stephen. pathetic? maybe, but the sooner i see him the sooner we can load up the hookah, take a load off, and delve into our quiet evening of swirling smoke, saucy music, and reading, of course.
last week we bought three (3) books to read to one another. we have started with The Chronicles of Narnia. i see an infatuation with British children on the horizon and a funky wardrobe in my future. how f'n sweet would it be to paint the inside of a closet like a forest, cut the back from a wardrobe, and place the false front of the wardrobe covering the entrance to the closet, so that when opened a child could wander into a tiny world of make believe and magic?!
damn, i can't wait to have kids! five (5) years until we're going to start trying, but we're already collecting ideas, art work, books, and experience. my mom wants us to get genetic counseling on account of our mental/psychological disorders; chiefly my anxiety and stephen's depression. five (5) years is enough time to consider the odds of giving birth to mentally healthy child and also enough time to explore the options and approaches to tackling the task of raising a mentally unstable child. blah, genetics.
i seem only to be able to sleep soundly when my chin is resting on stephen's collar bone and my nose smushed up against his neck. recent nights have been mostly sleepless. no amount of trazadone can put to sleep my obsession with the beat of his heart and the sound of his breathing. . .sigh. . .
. . .counting the minutes until lunch time. 63, to be exact. 63 minutes until my next cigarette. 361 minutes until i see stephen. pathetic? maybe, but the sooner i see him the sooner we can load up the hookah, take a load off, and delve into our quiet evening of swirling smoke, saucy music, and reading, of course.
last week we bought three (3) books to read to one another. we have started with The Chronicles of Narnia. i see an infatuation with British children on the horizon and a funky wardrobe in my future. how f'n sweet would it be to paint the inside of a closet like a forest, cut the back from a wardrobe, and place the false front of the wardrobe covering the entrance to the closet, so that when opened a child could wander into a tiny world of make believe and magic?!
damn, i can't wait to have kids! five (5) years until we're going to start trying, but we're already collecting ideas, art work, books, and experience. my mom wants us to get genetic counseling on account of our mental/psychological disorders; chiefly my anxiety and stephen's depression. five (5) years is enough time to consider the odds of giving birth to mentally healthy child and also enough time to explore the options and approaches to tackling the task of raising a mentally unstable child. blah, genetics.