And I know that I am the luckiest.
Wow. I seriously just... don't update. Ever. What happened over the course of two and a half years that made me go from writing at least one entry a day to... nothing? I think it hinges on three factors:
(1) I no longer have a job where I can sit in front of a computer for 8 hours and pretend to be productive. I actually work at work now. I know, right?
(2) School. School has made me hate reading, writing, typing and thinking, so I go out of my way to avoid any leisure activities that involve those processes. Speaking of school, I sold my books back today and got a whopping $79.25 for like 10 books. Awesome. Thanks, Barnes and Noble.
(3) Except for the very occasional hissyfit I bring on myself out of boredom and/or hormones, my life is more or less worry-free. I have nothing to bitch about, mull over or rant against. I'm sure I could find things, but I think I've pretty much gotten over the need for drama as means of mixing things up.
That's my theory on it, anyway. I really do miss writing about the minutae of my day, but some part of me has changed. Maybe I just don't feel like laying it all out on the table like I used to. I was reading Charles Baxter's Feast of Love (for class, of course) and one of the characters commented that when you're happy, you're not as inclined to share it with everyone. You want to keep it to yourself. I think I wrote about that a few years ago when I was going through a writing slump, and I absolutely agree.
Part of it, I think, is that I really don't know how to express how happy and comfortable I am without sounding (a) like I'm bragging or (b) cheesy. Truly, my life is wonderful. I have made and kept some of the best friends anyone could wish for. My family is a big, loud, brassy bunch of loving people who all live close enough that we can all get together for pretty much every holiday. I thank God as often as I can for Kyle coming into my life. He is, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the amazing thing is, he feels the same way about me. The afore-mentioned blemishes, the spots of drama that I create, come from disbelief that surfaces every once in a while, disbelief that he would want me. But he does, and he lets me be myself while inspiring me to be a better person.
See? Cheesy. I've been meaning to sit down and write a letter to him to express all the happiness he's given me over the past couple years, but it seems impossible to do without using hoke like "unbelievable," "butterflies" and "life-changing." If there is a way to do that, let me know, because I really want to get it all out in front of me in black and white.
Well, I really want to write more, but the laptop is burning my legs and it's almost midnight, so adios. I am going to try and make an effort to stick with this updating thing, but I can't promise much. Summer school starts Tuesday.
(1) I no longer have a job where I can sit in front of a computer for 8 hours and pretend to be productive. I actually work at work now. I know, right?
(2) School. School has made me hate reading, writing, typing and thinking, so I go out of my way to avoid any leisure activities that involve those processes. Speaking of school, I sold my books back today and got a whopping $79.25 for like 10 books. Awesome. Thanks, Barnes and Noble.
(3) Except for the very occasional hissyfit I bring on myself out of boredom and/or hormones, my life is more or less worry-free. I have nothing to bitch about, mull over or rant against. I'm sure I could find things, but I think I've pretty much gotten over the need for drama as means of mixing things up.
That's my theory on it, anyway. I really do miss writing about the minutae of my day, but some part of me has changed. Maybe I just don't feel like laying it all out on the table like I used to. I was reading Charles Baxter's Feast of Love (for class, of course) and one of the characters commented that when you're happy, you're not as inclined to share it with everyone. You want to keep it to yourself. I think I wrote about that a few years ago when I was going through a writing slump, and I absolutely agree.
Part of it, I think, is that I really don't know how to express how happy and comfortable I am without sounding (a) like I'm bragging or (b) cheesy. Truly, my life is wonderful. I have made and kept some of the best friends anyone could wish for. My family is a big, loud, brassy bunch of loving people who all live close enough that we can all get together for pretty much every holiday. I thank God as often as I can for Kyle coming into my life. He is, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the amazing thing is, he feels the same way about me. The afore-mentioned blemishes, the spots of drama that I create, come from disbelief that surfaces every once in a while, disbelief that he would want me. But he does, and he lets me be myself while inspiring me to be a better person.
See? Cheesy. I've been meaning to sit down and write a letter to him to express all the happiness he's given me over the past couple years, but it seems impossible to do without using hoke like "unbelievable," "butterflies" and "life-changing." If there is a way to do that, let me know, because I really want to get it all out in front of me in black and white.
Well, I really want to write more, but the laptop is burning my legs and it's almost midnight, so adios. I am going to try and make an effort to stick with this updating thing, but I can't promise much. Summer school starts Tuesday.