My tickets to go to India are confirmed. I definitely assumed I would be more excited when it was finalized. It should be a very big deal, and I should be all excitedly jumping around, but I am not. Nothing seems to matter. Probably if this were some exotic portion of Europe? Hmm.
Hmm. Maybe, when it sinks in in a month or so from now, and I’m not carefully picking up some apt thing for someone back hmm home. There are a couple of things I assumed I’d be buying which I’m definitely not going to need. I am not in a mood for any more “not my place” conversations.
I have found my first official hostee. Anita now maintains her journal here.
After over a year of answering clueless email related to admissions and aid, like it was some karmic duty, I actually responded to a couple of really funny people yesterday. And I must say I wanted to give them as much info as I could.
I’ve been drooling in my sleep. That coupled with generally unkempt and untied hair results in this ambiguous muck (ahh yes, the joys of not arbitrarily selected words) in the morning. That is definitely not good. But on the plus side, I love the texture of my hair today.
I’ve been sick to my stomach after I saw how good a bunch of performers were together. They were bonding, they were having fun, they were doing something they enjoyed. Well. And what’ve I done in the recent past? Shut myself away from most things pining everything on some arbitrary point in the future. I need to pick up an instrument or a mikkeeeee.
Old, but apt.
I’ve been feeling old and like I’ve let life pass me by lately. For one, I manage a bunch of bank accounts, handle any and all bills, and I’m preparing my own taxes. Yes, I’m feeling old because I am old. Butï¿½ I mean, if you are “this old” you must be at “this point” in your life.
I am nowhere near there. Just old.
NP. Third Eye Blind – Third Eye Blind