I am decided. I will have no more this winter bullshit. After a barefoot porch-sit yesterday, today I am dressed in spring clothes, well knowing it will be closer to 40 than 50 degrees by the time I am going home. ZERO FUCKS. I GIVE THEM. A single fuck, perhaps, since I retain enough reason to continue the pea coat instead of a premature switch to the trench. Clothes.

It's kind of frightening to think you're about to have a seizure when you've never had one. It's possible I have developed actual hypochondria, but there was definitely something wrong with me last night, and there continues to be something wrong with me behind the scenes. I will get it figured out soon enough because it is spring now. Wet and mushy spring, but spring all the same.

Honey wine and love and chocolate on this holiday of fertility. You all deserve someone who will list their favored and admirable qualities about you for at least three and a half naked minutes while listening to JT's "Mirrors." One of life's finer experiences.

I only have a few more years to suffer these terrible work situations. Now that Kevin is going to art school, he has realized that the reason he was so insistent that I also work is because he wanted someone to suffer alongside him. Once he does what he wants, gets his art learnings underway and inevitably finds a high-paying, creatively abundant job, then I will be able to pick raspberries, rearrange the dishes, and tend to the hypothetical children all day.

Sometimes I want to slap myself in the face but FFS I really don't think I want anything else. Except the writing, of course.

K I'm gonna go red Orlando cause its spring time now okay thanks bye