This week I take up running (or an approximation), spend time in the sun to pick up color (something beyond grey and tired, please), and get the summer calendar together. Plus possibly work out a way to go back to school to finish the last 23 credits I need for my BA.
These notions aren't as romantic as the first, but both are real and burning through my brain (or what's left at 3 AM).
I'm tired of being the warning light for peoples' bad decisions. If I can see it, especially if we already had this discussion, why are you walking back into oncoming cars? Are you trying to cause an accident? Just stop. Stop.
Tonight I got the ingredients for a couple experiments because I temporarily have a clean/safe place to play. Tonight it was Carmel bacon buns, and tomorrow I make homemade pizza rolls because I CAN.
This week may also finally see the trash novel Jordan wants me to attempt coming to fruition. There are already a few brilliant working titles. Maybe it'll be worth publishing. Ah yes, my life reduced to an odd punch line for a joke no one bought.
Somehow the only bit of tonight I want to hold to or dream about is the man who is a huge fan of bacon and the idea of traveling the world in a boat learning about sharks.
Ted, again, was right in saying nothing good happens after 2 AM. Sleep.
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