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got out of bed too late to make french toast My sisters are out at the ranch, and, true story: they were going to go hunting today, unless, one of them said, they decided to "stay inside and read". It sounds so nice. I can't do that. I've done it, I do it, but I know people who "read" in a way that I don't, like marathon readers, like reading is an actual activity. Yeah, I can't be happy to relax either. I'm always antsy, wanting to be doing other things. I read here and there when I fit it in, at lunch or in bed or a few minutes at the coffee shop. A night in is time wasted. Maybe I need hypnosis. What are you doing? Other people would say they're "chilling" or "just hanging out". But I say, "um, nothing." Last night after work I turned in my rental application. Maybe all my curses and taunts at the Fates and Jesus have been heeded, because I've done everything I can to fuck that up and I feel like everything is leading there anyway. I am nervous, though, about finding a roommate and about telling my current landlord that I'll be moving out. I am nervous. And anyway, what if they reject my application? What of my intuition then? I dreamed about french toast this morning. I've had no contact with him in two weeks. I'm on facebook too much now. Got an unfortunate, ill-timed text message yesterday. Banged my head on my desk. "Oh no oh no oh no," I said to my office mate, "I want to go on vacation." Turns out, though, happily, I won't be in town at the time this person is texting about, I really will be on vacation. Serendipity!
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