life
It's been two days since the show I was working on closed. In the 48 hours since I left the theatre, I've been snippier at work and quietly stressed out at home. As I sit here the chicken is broiling in the kitchen and some very non-descript mid-nineties music is drifting rather loudly from my brother's computer and I'm simply unhappy. I don't
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::major hugs::
I love you, roomie. I'm sorry things are crummy and that you're feeling crummy about thinking they're crummy, and I hope and pray that the sun will shine through soon. You've gone through a ton of tough stuff, and the wonderful woman you are despite or because of it...it's amazing. And I'm like, "That's my amazing roomie. Yay."
I looooooooooove yooooooooooooooooooou! (spoken in whale!)
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I wish it could be a real one.
I'm sorry life is more-difficult-than-usual right now, cherie, and especially that it's living-situation stuff that doesn't leave you a good place to be.
And "selfish" is the last -- literally the LAST -- word I would apply to you. Ever. Like, I would call you, um, unappreciative-of-meep, and uninterested-in-tall-skinny-angsty-accented-men, or even "llama-face" before I would call you selfish. You have always been and remain one of the strongest, kindest, most selfless people God's been boundlessly good enough to let me know.
Love you, miss you, and RESPECT you bunches, roomie-mine. Be well. And take some care of yourself.
::llamahug::
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