and i don't know why, but i really, really, really want this:
in case you can't tell what it is, it's a magic mushroom print apron from anthropologie. i know.
kitchen fantasy
ok, i am not a kitchen person. i actually had pots and pans and stuff that went so unused that i just gave them away when i moved. but lately, i've been baking a little (cake mix muffins, and instant pancakes) and thinking maybe i'd like to do more. i bought one 2 quart pot and a flat pan and a cupcake baking tin and that's it. i think it's time to move on, but slowly, with these:
and i don't know why, but i really, really, really want this:
in case you can't tell what it is, it's a magic mushroom print apron from anthropologie. i know.
and i don't know why, but i really, really, really want this:
in case you can't tell what it is, it's a magic mushroom print apron from anthropologie. i know.
everything
i feel overwhelmed. not by anything in particular, just sort of sick of everything. I don't know how to fix it. I'm at the turning point, I know it could get better, could just be a funk, but could also downwardly spiral into a pms type of week. (minus the pms, thank god.) a good book would help, but the one i picked up at the airportturned out to be so, so bad. almost getting there, so close to being emotional and riveting, but never actually doing anything. and trying much too hard with the sex stuff.
post traumatic stress
he called, but i couldn’t hear him very well. little voices overwhelming from the background. i wonder what life is going to be like. i am scared. i feel like i can barely go along with life. i’m so used to being SAFE, even though I moved out of safe over a year ago. why am i stressing now when before I was ok?
i went to my apartment the other day to assess the situation and get a few pictures. it felt like visiting someone after you haven’t seen them in forever. someone very familiar but changed so that that comfortable knowing is now slightly awkward. an exboyfriend maybe.
it was scary. not the feeling, i still love that apartment so much, it’s still a safehaven for my beloved stuff. most of which i will throw away instead of move. i haven't used it in over six months. even the few times i went to pick up things, i was at a loss as to exactly what i thought i needed. it needs to be thrown away. But the neighbors, the house, the street. all that was scary.
yesterday, i felt like i should drive the two hours to stay with my mom, but just really felt like alone time. i went to the groceries at walgreens to avoid a crowd and long drive, then home. as i was walking up the steps to the building, i felt at peace. i couldn’t wait to walk into our little apartment and lock the door behind me. this is my safehaven, i actually thought in my head. funny i used the word safehaven again tonight.
i took a questionairre at work, it says i have post-traumatic stress disorder. at least now i can blame the hurricane for being fucked in the head.
i went to my apartment the other day to assess the situation and get a few pictures. it felt like visiting someone after you haven’t seen them in forever. someone very familiar but changed so that that comfortable knowing is now slightly awkward. an exboyfriend maybe.
it was scary. not the feeling, i still love that apartment so much, it’s still a safehaven for my beloved stuff. most of which i will throw away instead of move. i haven't used it in over six months. even the few times i went to pick up things, i was at a loss as to exactly what i thought i needed. it needs to be thrown away. But the neighbors, the house, the street. all that was scary.
yesterday, i felt like i should drive the two hours to stay with my mom, but just really felt like alone time. i went to the groceries at walgreens to avoid a crowd and long drive, then home. as i was walking up the steps to the building, i felt at peace. i couldn’t wait to walk into our little apartment and lock the door behind me. this is my safehaven, i actually thought in my head. funny i used the word safehaven again tonight.
i took a questionairre at work, it says i have post-traumatic stress disorder. at least now i can blame the hurricane for being fucked in the head.
goodbye austin
Compromise: temporary move is off forever, permanent move is off for six months. I gave my notice at work for the end of April. I am so excited! I hate exclamation points, especially when people put more than one.
another year?
This was the first year that I didn’t spend Christmas Day with my parents. We stayed in bed, went to Rite Aid for beer and a plunger (why does the toilet stop working on Christmas Eve of all days?), and ate Mexican enchilada frozen dinners. I did miss having presents. I had said so many times that I don’t care about presents, and not to worry about getting my anything. And I don’t care about getting something to show off. But I decided that I do care that he goes out and gets something, anything, and wrap it for me. Think I can revise it for next year? It’s depressing not to have even one present to open. It’s nice to know someone thought of you.
I took a week’s vacation and we went and bought some furniture, made some art, now it looks like a real apartment. It feels like home. I love, love, love the apartment. I will miss it if we move to Austin. It feels like my first home.
For New Years, I stayed in bed again. Sick, watching 24. I have weird dreams from 24. I start to think people are following me. Conspiracy everywhere.
I hosted the friend’s Christmas party this year all by myself. It was a nice one. No getting too drunk, no late night martinis. Everyone loving the apartment and me finally getting Martha Stewart with the food preparation. I was pretty proud of myself. Buying wine, setting everything up, giving all the directions out, and still being ready early. The toilet didn’t work the night before, and I even taught myself how to use the plunger. I know it’s little things.
I took a week’s vacation and we went and bought some furniture, made some art, now it looks like a real apartment. It feels like home. I love, love, love the apartment. I will miss it if we move to Austin. It feels like my first home.
For New Years, I stayed in bed again. Sick, watching 24. I have weird dreams from 24. I start to think people are following me. Conspiracy everywhere.
I hosted the friend’s Christmas party this year all by myself. It was a nice one. No getting too drunk, no late night martinis. Everyone loving the apartment and me finally getting Martha Stewart with the food preparation. I was pretty proud of myself. Buying wine, setting everything up, giving all the directions out, and still being ready early. The toilet didn’t work the night before, and I even taught myself how to use the plunger. I know it’s little things.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)