I've forgotten how much fun it is to keep something to myself.
I've also forgotten how good I am at it!
Why did I stop?! Desperation obviously leads to undesirable situations.
["Situations" is obviously not the right word here, but I can't for the life of me think of any other word!]
The week is almost over and I should pack up tonight.
I have a project to my right that I'm in love with. It's coming together nicely and even though it's simple, it's a little more intricate than usual. I've been picking up and putting down every few minutes for a week now. If I could just FOCUS, I'd have finished by now (well, and if I hadn't gotten halfway done then unraveled the whole thing last week!), but school tends to get in the way. These papers are killing me. I have a headache that no amount of ibuprofen can settle. The only thing that slightly helped was an HOUR of cardio. (What was I thinking?! I won't be able to move tomorrow! I need to move! Or, even worse, I have an hour and a half drive tomorrow morning. What if I get used to sitting, then fall out of my car when I get home? Oh, dear.)
I know it's winter, but when I go home this weekend, I want to see a deer. I hadn't realized how much I've missed seeing wildlife until yesterday (and the "dear" helped jog my memory, too!) "City" life isn't what I remembered. It's not as fun. People are a little pretentious and no one here wants to go fishing (ha ha, 'Spring Break 09!' I suppose).
I put a lot of exclamation points in this. I'm usually not a very emphatic writer.
There's something that I want, and I'm drooling over it. I can hardly wait!
I'm really bad at ending things. So, from now on, the safe word is "lapel."