I miss my Meth Mondays. If I only forgot trivial things, like the ten thousand and one weird facts or lines from movies or television shows that I carry with me on my day-to-day journeys, like a sack of
I’m not a morning person. I’ve never been a morning person. As a kid, I’d lay my sleeping bag down on the floor and go to bed fully dressed so that I’d have more time to sleep in the morning
It’s a perfect, gorgeous Saturday morning: the temperatures cool enough in the morning to keep the mosquitoes at bay. My dog is barking at the porch roof, voicing all of her disapproval on the patch of sunlight that taunts her.
Just when I thought I’d never fall in love again: boom. It takes me completely by surprise and I realize that I am absolutely, definitely in love. It’s less the making-babies-with-you kind of love and more the absolute-awe-that-you-exist kind
The problem with being over 40 is that I don’t know if whatever symptoms I’ve having are from a) aging b) being overweight or c) Rheumatoid Disease or d) some freaky weird thing that just happens status post 40. After