I'm the night

On my 6th day of vacation, writing half-drunk on gin and pink lemonade. I took a week off of work, but it hasn't felt anything like that. Between babysitting and appointments, I've been quite busy. Between cats and random street sweepers, I've been restless in my sleep. My dreams have been almost feverish in their weird, short intensity.

Also, today, the sad death of one of the few crushes I've been able to maintain with any sort of regularity lately. And it's my own fault, really. And he's still so damn cute, just different now. I actually wonder at what point I become "celibate." If it's a time thing, I've got to be there. If it's an attitude thing, well... well.

I can remember when I used to be so boy-crazy, so full of ideas, so excited about life in general, and it wasn't that long ago. I can't remember when I became so cynical. Not just about men - about work, about money, about my own drive or creativity, about any ideas of love or happily-ever-after. About anything other than friends and family. I am in a funk, and I'm wondering when it happened, because I obviously didn't notice when it started. Things just take over.

But there is excitement coming, along with warmer weather and different opportunities (yeah, I can vague anything up!). I can feel the excitement, on the outermost layer of my skin, tingling. Like when I played hide and seek in the dark, as a child. Something's coming. Maybe something good.

What the hell am I even talking about at this point?



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