For the first time in a long time my life is settled again. Every single tiny possession is tucked into its little place. I have just enough to not look like I'm living in a communal college apartment but still teeter safely on the edge of minimalist. I've been writing some...mostly just drunk scribblings. I know the point would be to not edit out the bad but this is my world and you are visiting and I really choose not to lay my bare naked soul out in front of you. My parental unit came to see my new digs and was less than proud and supportive...could just be the difference in personalities and my skewed perception but as I always say...perception is reality. A few days after the visit I had some kind of fucked up self realization and actually questioned the core of who I am as my problem...and maybe it is. I cried myself to sleep that night...But in the morning light I remembered that I really like me. I'm the happiest I've ever been. What the fuck is with me questioning that. I severely hate getting off of even keel. They told me at work that I'm like watching Monty Python...I'm ok in small doses but you just can't handle much of it. I can't describe the amount of happy that I am for having someone who can take me in full doses. I think the people who are around me feel sorry for Velcro and at the same time may question his sanity for choosing me. He held my hand and brought me down from the ledge that I managed to perch myself on.
A loaf of bread has been purchased. Its the first one I've bought since September. I picked it up after I figured out that every dirty dish in my sink was related to either alcohol or peanut butter...I am not kidding about this. In my defense some belonged to the dog...the peanut butter not the alcohol. My first week in the new place and I flood out the neighbors with my misbehaving dishwasher circa 1936 or some shit. They are so going to love me...I know how to win people over. So needless to say I'm not using it anymore. Its not that big of a deal but it makes you realize that you've just gone about 5 days (according to the number of dirty peanut butter laced spoons) and all that's missing from your suedo college existence is a pyramid of beer cans and some empty pizza boxes. I have got to learn to feed myself again...not for nothing the pizza box would indicate at least one meal had been consumed. Hence the loaf of bread. I had grand intentions for it but as of yet all I've used it for was to hide a pepto so the dog would take it. Odds are I'm going to finally land on the idea of a grilled cheese about the time that its been around long enough to be addressed by name and has quite the penicillin farm growing on it. If I actually ate good and didn't drink my weight in whip cream vodka I could look like a frickin rock star. Meh.
I saw a motorcycle wreck last week...it was one of the most disturbing things I've seen in a long time. It didn't make me nervous to ride or discourage me from wanting my own. Your odds may get called and that really doesn't bother me. I may freak the f out at the thought of loosing Velcro but not so much myself. When you see someone die completely out of time and unsuspectingly it makes you think. I've fretted in the past about a will and who would get my real estate and whatever but in hind sight who gives a fuck. Outside of someone stepping up to handle my furry guys I have no worries. There's never going to be a devastated husband and motherless off spring. In the big picture I have not so much to loose...that's a very freeing discovery.
There was a most awesome full moon this week. The Rog and I walked all the way to the big field to get an unobstructed view. Four months after the first one...still crazy in love. Right now in my little girl grown up world I really couldn't ask for anything more.