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I have no excuses, part because excuses are for those who don't have reasons, and those I have in plenty.
I almost wish I didn't, even though I almost don't know what I would be without them, and cannot say that I don't really care without lying through my teeth. But I did not get to write about my braces and how I felt like I had a porcupine in my mouth, if porcupines pulled on teeth; I did not get to talk about going to Tagaytay for everybody's birthday and about the way you can go up to anyone in our family for the first two weeks of June and say "Happy birthday" and they'll either say thank you or think that you're joking; I didn't get to rant about enrollment and FOP and having a new buddy and my completely awesome shitty day.
And there are seventy billion things I don't know and one of them is how to plow through life without being an angel in the morning and a trainwreck in the afternoon. And one of the few things I do know is that there's no way I can expect to keep being functional if I intend to continue back-and-forthing between anger and contentment, misery and euphoria, I'm never as in control as I think I am and really ought to know better.
But: my apartment- our apartment, me and Thea and Sed and Madi and Orven and Leki, I could get used to this- is awesome and this morning I cooked eggs and toasted bread over a frying pan, and our first week of school was sluggish and relaxing, and I am going to learn how to cook. I can walk home and lie down on a cushion and sleep any time I want, we are going to have Internet, and I might be a moody idiot but there are always worse things to be.
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Yesterday Billy cooked bacon and we had BLTs for dinner. This morning I managed to cook an egg sunny-side-up. Next week we are going to attempt carbonara, the key word being attempt. We are going to have the Kevin Jer David Feeding Program, and at the end of the semester I fully expect to be, if not an excellent cook, at least one who can crack eggs and fry bacon. Go us.
I almost wish I didn't, even though I almost don't know what I would be without them, and cannot say that I don't really care without lying through my teeth. But I did not get to write about my braces and how I felt like I had a porcupine in my mouth, if porcupines pulled on teeth; I did not get to talk about going to Tagaytay for everybody's birthday and about the way you can go up to anyone in our family for the first two weeks of June and say "Happy birthday" and they'll either say thank you or think that you're joking; I didn't get to rant about enrollment and FOP and having a new buddy and my completely awesome shitty day.
And there are seventy billion things I don't know and one of them is how to plow through life without being an angel in the morning and a trainwreck in the afternoon. And one of the few things I do know is that there's no way I can expect to keep being functional if I intend to continue back-and-forthing between anger and contentment, misery and euphoria, I'm never as in control as I think I am and really ought to know better.
But: my apartment- our apartment, me and Thea and Sed and Madi and Orven and Leki, I could get used to this- is awesome and this morning I cooked eggs and toasted bread over a frying pan, and our first week of school was sluggish and relaxing, and I am going to learn how to cook. I can walk home and lie down on a cushion and sleep any time I want, we are going to have Internet, and I might be a moody idiot but there are always worse things to be.
---
Yesterday Billy cooked bacon and we had BLTs for dinner. This morning I managed to cook an egg sunny-side-up. Next week we are going to attempt carbonara, the key word being attempt. We are going to have the Kevin Jer David Feeding Program, and at the end of the semester I fully expect to be, if not an excellent cook, at least one who can crack eggs and fry bacon. Go us.