Sometimes work goes faster when I write in lj.

[wetmittens]

I’ve been waking up earlier this week to shower and sip coffee and bask in the time before I have to give my day away to other things. Watch my Kiku-Wintertit dart around and pounce on everything in sight, re-read the parts I’ve underlined in an old book or play my Gameboy or watch the garbage truck rumble through the street. We may be the only house that puts out the teeming recycle bin, and my whole life I've thought myself to be the most shameful slacker recycler. People treat you differently based on the way you look. Today I, what my mom would call “took pride in my appearance” - wore make up, high heels, skirt, and a fresh green low v-neck sweater. Not too low. Just enough to let them breathe. But people are nicer. They smile. They watch. Men open doors for me, even if it's out of their way. Women too. The board president says, “Hey you!” rather than look away. My presence feels responded to when I walk into a room. I guess I’m nicer too, in response. Perhaps I’ll do this more often. But still, fuck them all.

Last night I related to a Green Day lyric. I know it's simple, I've heard it a million times. But it seemed kinda exquisite for a second.

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone