I’ll never be that optimistic girl you knew from high school. And of all my faulty weaknesses, I think this is the one I may never come to terms with. I even asked boy if he could ever see me that way, the optimist, the smile that walks into the room, the ball of energy that breaks the quotidian. His response – “well, you’ll never be mistaken for that person.” But maybe I want to be mistaken for that person.
Some day I want to write a book. Does everyone have that dream? I like to think that everyone does.
Maybe we’ll have a holiday party. An upbeat party where I can finally wear that black dress I love so much with the black slipper flats. But what if people don’t come?
I want to be a die hard fan of something. Sports, literature, Twilight… But I haven’t found what I want to be a fan of yet.
I love the word quotidian. It sounds like it should be boring when it’s anything but.
I bought nail polish because the name was seasonal – plum pudding. It screamed “wear me during Thanksgiving dinner and everything will taste that much sweeter!” And now that dinner is over, I feel like a whore.
I have a closet turned study room. It has a window and a desk. My thinking space. It’s meant to keep all distractions away, including Jack and Jack’s tongue which he can’t seem to keep in his mouth. He licks air. I think I may be getting a bit lonely sitting here in my thinking closet…