Waiting for a witch's broom to take me trans-Pacifically.
I will see my girl on the other side of the world.
How about that for terrible poetry? Actually, I prefer the term "wordplay" over poetry - "poetry" is supposed to be pretty.
How about that for terrible wordplay?
Last night I fell asleep before 10:30 for the first time since... well... I don't know. This morning I woke up with vim and vigor at 6:15. That's been my goal "wake up" time for months and I've never really been very successful. I suppose I did everything right last night. Turned my computer off at 9. Read a book outside for half an hour. Cleaned my place. Flopped like a fish into bed at 10-oh-something. Told Melissa goodnight and put my phone away.
It was beautiful outside, by the way.
|Slaughterhouse 5 on the Balcony of My Building|
I feel so grown up - sitting on the desk next to me is my Social Security Card, Birth Certificate, Passport, Tax information, information about my insurance policies, and one or two other things of equal magnitude.
At the same time, I feel so not grown up - also sitting on the desk next to me is my PlayStation, a rubber ducky, a DVD of "Hot Rod" with Andy Samberg, and my desktop background says "Rule 1. You do not talk about Fight Club".
You met me at a very strange time in my life.