After work today, I pulled weeds in the rain. I have no desire to get out of this shell tonight, so I drink beer to keep me here. That is what was good about having a lover for a while, an arm to pin me to the bed early in the morning when the anxious energy I tend to radiate is pulling me awake.
Now, I have to rely on other things. Occasionally, beer, occasionally I'll read and read and read. I got poems together and sent them out; I worry about the yard.
Listening to Death Cab for Cutie. Thinking about going back to school. First, though, I need to get published. Before I can do that, I need to do laundry, as I plan on running about twelve or so miles in the morning and I can't if I don't have a clean pair of shorts and sports bra.
I think of blogging as pulling the weeds in my brain. It's like journaling in a public manner. Extroversion for the natural introvert.