date a girl

“In reality, it’s not that difficult to date a girl who writes. Accept that she will not show you anything she’s written until she’s ready. Understand that sometimes her stories aren’t developing the way she wants and she will be angry, bitter. Be patient, be jealous of her love for worlds you can’t even begin to enter. Buy her new books, new pens, new notebooks. Surround her with words. Dedicate songs to her. Leave little notes in her lunch bag. Words, for the writer, are more intimate and personal than a sensual touch. She hears their whispers, feels them, embraces them.”

— Date A Girl Who Writes by Effie Sapuridis

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http://wordsofthewise.tumblr.com/post/29661997994/the-500-days-of-summer-attitude-of-he-wants-you?og=1&fb_action_ids=10151235516605485&fb_action_types=tumblr-feed%3Areblog&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=288381481237582

happy

Fuck being unhappy. I'm over it. 
I'm going to go take my scooter and roll around the grocery store. 
I'm happy about it. 

Maybe the reason I don't want to get married is because I can't even fathom loving someone that much. Or them loving me that much. The entire notion is boggling.

Maybe it's just about meeting the right person. Maybe then all of the unfathomable qualities float away and you're left with nothing but to love the person to the moon and back. Maybe I'll be able to do that. But I don't know if anyone will ever love me that much. I don't know anymore. I. don't. know. And this day is cloudy as all get out and gloom makes me pensive, rather than work-centered.

I'm not enjoying Wednesdays as of the last month. They're the absolute worst. For some reason, sadness hits me on Wednesdays more than any other day of the week.

Looking forward to: new episodes of 30 Rock. Pumpkin soup. A Christmas tree. Wearing my trench coats to work. Sigh. Blurg. Ugh. Such simple things. Mostly I just want my heart to shut the hell up and leave me alone. I hate this process.

I had a great Wednesday night. I got four hours of sleep so I'm highly delirious, but it was well worth it. Then I got to the office this morning and cranked out three stories in two hours AND I'm wearing my new boots and what I believe to be the perfect outfit.

Strangely happy. On a Thursday morning. Fr-eaking weird. Freaking wonderful. To be happy in the middle of the week? Since when does that happen? Um... yay! yay? what the what?

Also, my church is awesome. Granted, ex goes there and I'm sure we'll run into each other (sigh), but they are one of the only Christian ministries I know that takes information seriously and takes it before Christ before they make stupid, rash decisions, or no decisions whatsoever. I want to stay at that church because of it. Maybe I'll just go to church a little late and leave a little early... That might work.

I drank some energy powder stuff this morning which kicked my brain into gear at 4 a.m., but now my body's exhausted and my brain is FREAKING OUT. Still pretty sure I could fall asleep, even still.

I've been at work almost 4 hours already. That is blurg-tastic. Oh well. I've got Wednesday endorphins floating about the brain.

I don't think I'd feel it if a 2x4 hit me in the face.

I don't think I've ever been so numb in my life.

I'm sing-karaoke-and-not-hear-the-boo's-numb. Don't get your work done and stay up all night working it and not sleeping and don't care. Like eat whatever I want and spend obscene amounts of money and barely notice numb.

I really want a new car. And some tattoos.

"sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead"

I was genuinely hoping the sad songs on Adele's "21" wouldn't become MY sad songs. eff.

If ANYONE thinks I lobotomized that boy out of my life, they can come check out the scars on my heart. That's proof enough. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

It's Thursday. The worst is over. Six+ hours of class. A full work-week. Tears out the yang. Insomnia. Still working on fighting off illness. I canNOT wait to go home after work and sleep.

This weekend I'll be cleaning out my room, which looks like an honest-to-whatever war zone. Not kidding. Oh, and also, I'll be enjoying an extra day off and not going to school Monday.

Why do my Septembers have a history of unpleasantness? I guess last year wasn't so bad. I hope the flip of my calendars shall not signal sadness this year. At this point my heart's already so numb that I don't think I'll feel much of anything, anyway.

Holy monkeys. What is it with everyone and their mom going rock climbing? I feel a little left out but mostly I don't give a crap. I don't like rock climbing. Which means I have less interaction with my friends... but I don't want to spend time doing something I genuinely don't like. So sorry, rocks. We aren't to be acquainted for quite some time, if ever.

My plan this semester is to read. That's seriously all I have time to do. I'm spending hours, already, doing GOBS of homework after one week and I'm still behind. Not okay. blurg.

I swear, I'm becoming more like LL every day. Once again, blurg.