Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Stop stalling.

I am really not off to a great start, am I?

What should be muscle memory or autopilot had now become something I actively avoid, am I'm conscious of the fact that this is not good or healthy behavior.

So why do I continue to do it?

The only thing I could do in the moment that the severity of this was overtaking me was just open the laptop.

Jeezus, that sentence structure was FOR SHIT.  Marsh would, should be, very disappointed in me.  I am.

It's a low feeling kind of day, or at least that's what has become of it.  I had already backed myself into a corner by putting off certain things to the very last minute.  Sometimes that helps me get something done, but not always.  That's what happened today.

The hours are winding down.  I've been home from class for a little over an hour now, but I keep bouncing from one action to the next.

After putting my purse and notebook down, I went after the laundry: removing wrinkly whites from the dryer to an empty basket, and transferring the wet load of random shirts and pants from the washer to the dryer.  I went upstairs to the bedroom so I could pair socks and fold undershirts sitting cross legged on the bed.

But just a few minutes into that, my best  good friend called.

This person is so incredibly dear to me.  Just one sentence in and the bottom lids of my eyes have tears balancing on them.

The older I get the harder it hits me of just how important relationships with other people are.

(I just stopped to go pour myself a glass of wine.  How much of a stereotype am I.  Doesn't matter which one, any one will do.)

I've had many relationships that have had both a beginning and an ending.  How I've felt about that has changed drastically over the past fifteen or so years of my life.

Which isn't all that much.  I'm at that stage where I'm too young to complain about being old, but I'm too old to be considered young.  Well, maybe by some people's definitions; I'm sure someone pushing ninety would consider me young.

Stop stalling.

I can't help but think about the people that aren't in my life anymore every goddamn day.  There are two in particular, both are oddly twisted knifes that seem to be wedged in just the right angles between my ribs.

And I can't shake them.

(wine and teh internet won.  Until tomorrow.  maybe.)