Recovering.
Today I went out and splurged on pink. As I often do when I'm sad. Last time it was a hat and sunglasses. Today it was a bedspread and a body pillow and curtains. So as I was stripping the sheets of my bed and replacing them, I started thinking about how there was a point where I wouldn't have been caught dead with a hint of pink in my room. And that made me think about change. Which made me think about loss. Which made me think about my off-track life. Which made me have a mild panic attack. Again. All because I tried to do something for myself.
But I'm much better now, thanks for asking. You'd think I was pregnant, I've been having mood-swings so much lately. Which I think was one of my mother's first guesses when she saw me cry. She said she hadn't seen me this upset since April, and that something must've gone terribly wrong. And I hated to disappoint, but I didn't have AIDS and I wasn't pregnant or on drugs or arrested. I was just unhappy. I can't even do that properly.
I have my new Aaron icon! Yay
ehsdancer22 !
I'm also going to the mall with Amo tomorrow. So there, I have 3 reasons to be happy. Pink sheets, Aaron Tveit, and the mall. I guess that will have to do for now.
My mood did help me write yesterday, though. I wrote some really decent stuff. And there was like a whole 300 words that I actually got totally right on the first try. Without revising it or changing words or moving sentences or anything. I love it when that happens. When you write 3,000 words and some of it is just perfect. And you don't have to touch it at all. One of the most satisfying things, I'd say.
Countdown.
11 days until Thanksgiving, 39 days until Christmas, 46 days until New Year's Eve in Times Square, 49 days until In The Heights, 85 days until my birthday.