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there’s something to be said for

February 14, 2014

Curling up in the fetal position and sobbing on your kitchen floor while your basement floods after the main water line bursts and the water company’s emergency line puts you on hold for FORTY EFFING MINUTES. I sent a text to A., the only person I could fathom would understand why I found the dirty kitchen floor so Damn comfortable.

Today, I wanted to email TLTL back a letter he had written to himself on his 32nd birthday and shared with me. It was about how he’s a good man, deserves good things, and love. Uh-huh. I thought maybe he could use a reality check, but decided it would just be spiteful, and that I’m just tired after a 15-hour work day during which I managed to squeeze in a twenty minute break. I’m so tired that I can’t even finish my chai tea latte.

I’m so tired, I can’t sleep.

Or maybe I was wrong about that since I am now finishing this upon waking up. Did the usual, 430 wake-up, cappuccino, read the news, hop in the sauna… cleaned the house, got down to work by 7.

I forget what my point was.

I think I’m in love.

With myself.

I’ll edit this later when I remember my password on my computer.

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