buttereggsmeat.



I'm sitting in the cafe. I am busily contemplating my life.
What am I going to be when I grow up guys? I dream of being a wanderer. A life-barista. A Preacher. A youth worker. A musician.

I guess the open options blow my mind. It's strange that after years of post secondary, I really haven't specialized (or pigeon-holed myself) in to much of anything. The only specialized skill set I have relates to espresso, and even that skill set isn't all that special yet. Pulling shots is not rocket science. It just requires care.

I've taken a few days off this week. It's done me some good.

And while she's straightening her stockings, her hair has gotten wet.

I'm sitting at Dahn's place. We're both on laptops.
I am cutting a class I really should be at.
At the moment I sincerely dislike school. Everybody says it's just the third year itch, and that I should do what I desperately want to do. Scratch.
That is to say, drop out.

I'm doing everything in excess. I hate it a little. I'm tired a lot.

In other news, I'm falling for someone.
It is unexpected
and lovely.

quiet house. noisy head.



Thinking about stuff.
I'm cleaning my place, which looks like it was hit by a beer-bottle, cigarette, pizza-box tornado. (Note to self, an "anti-New Years gathering" is STILL a party...)

I'm tired. I'm hoping to restore a modicum of order to the space and then maybe crash for a couple of hours before tonight's hot date. I hope it's great. I'm supposed to be making the plans, but I'm at a bit of a loss for ideas... I mean, is dinner and a movie TOO cliche to even think about attempting?
Seriously, romantic planning is not my forte. I just want to buy flowers and drink smoothies.

Maybe I could cook dinner and make romantic smoothies?
Smoothies made of flowers?
I need a manual.

Dudes?
WHERE IS MY MANUAL!?