Today I would like to curl up with a pen and a notebook and write tragic, emo poetry.
Since I don’t know how to write tragic, emo poetry I guess I’ll suck it up and clean my house, get the Christmas shit put away, do some laundry…
Self indulgence of feeling depressed never really works for me.
Perhaps that’s also why my life isn’t rule or even much affected by my short lived bouts of depression.
Tomorrow is always another day, right?
And it always gets better somehow or another.
~xoxo
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I drink a lot of coffee, ride a motorcycle, have an 18 year old son and a decade long relationship that began in a chat room.
You are a bad influence, I am out of silverware. Some how I’ve caught your no-dishes-doing thing….since you are already cleaning, will you come do my dishes and um, my living room needs to be vacuumed?