The gray cat is sneezing all over my green afghan--the one I made to mimic my mom's dark brown afghan that used to be the roof to all our living room forts. You could see out through the holes. Lie on your back and pretend the points of lights through the dark yarn were stars.
I was all set to spend the afternoon with Lis and oompah music, but one of those components just sliced off the tip of her finger.
And. I am trying not to focus on negatives on a day like today (do you want to know how my today began? Or how my yesterday ended? You'd envy me). But I AM, ANYWAY. I am looking at bottles of pills. And thinking about cake. And I am resenting myself for being so internal when I know full well that I need to learn to reach out again.
I'm restless. And needy. And impatient. And using the word 'and' too much. I think it gives me a false sense of connection, when in reality I'm really more of a here then there with no explanation for the change type of girl. I think if I stood up and stretched my arms toward the ceiling and moved around a bit I'd be happier.
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