November 8, 2002
12 Pains
I'm not already listening to Christmas music, okay? Whoever told you that was lying.
Or, telling the complete and absolute truth. I'll let you decide based upon what you all know about me.
I am wearing my new fuzzy be-turtle-necked sweater and feeling more than thrilled about everything. Sometimes I am just so happy. Mostly after I am fresh from his touch... but that's beside the point.
I've seen him everyday this week. And I've only had to skip one class to do it. There is nothing better than giggling in his bed at five o'clock in the morning, and sleeping in until noon.
I keep thinking about having an apartment next year. Having coffee in Starbucks, the two of us browsed City Beat, and the classified page revealed apartments in downtown Cincinnati with hardwood floors, fire places, and coin laundry, in a security building, for $290 a month. How. Awesome. Is. That.
I can live in the slums. Or low income housing. Anywhere. Anywhere that would be my little place, if only one room. It would be my one room, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. I could paint it. I could cook myself dinner. I could study and lay on the floor and burn candles instead of turning on the lights. I could sleep there, or I could sleep with him. He could come and sleep. I could get up at six o'clock in the morning and drive my random eighties car to school. I could go to class and come back. I could have dinner with my family, and then go home.
It would be just me. Just me and Pepe and the frequent visitor in the visage of Kelsi or Mike.
I've put up my hair and washed my uniform and am in the process of conditioning myself for the weekend and for work. I wish I still liked Fridays.
Tuesday is definitely my day.
astera at 10:27 a.m.