Soon, my girl

I leave in two weeks. 12 days, actually. Holy crap. TWELVE DAYS. That can't be right. Twelve days. I'm 17 years old, I'm a high school drop out, and I'm leaving home in twelve days. And I still have nothing packed, have only gone through two boxes of books (that's out of 15, my friend), and....and...I don't even need an and, do I? I know that leaving home is an important step, and though I don't think I'm ready, I'm pretty sure that now is just as good as time as any. There's nothing left to do here. As it is, I'm just staying at home, working a little, but not doing much. I move, I start gaining my residency, I start going to college, I become a teacher, that's something. My dreams will never just happen if I stay at home.

But twelve days? That makes me want to stay at home, makes me want to find my little sister and tickle her and read to her, makes me want to chase the cats and then dangle lunch meat in front of them (they do tricks to write home about, I tell you!). It makes me suddenly not want to leave.

Most awful of all? I'm so stressed I can't even write poetry. Le SIGH.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

Nine to five.

Yay job!!

Is it possible that one's anti-depressants only take affect after 0ne in the morning? Because here I am, after having an abysmal day, utterly overjoyed. Of course, it also happens to be 2 AM. How terrifically helpful.

None the less, today was surprisingly good, for a non-working high school drop out. Oh man, that description of me does so much justice. I love it. Anyway, I made food for dinner guests, which makes me feel productive, and I tried to curl my hair, which was a waste of time, as I have hair that would not, could not curl for a .... pearl? It's just that stubborn, Seuss. A surprisingly good day, and yet it felt abysmal until just now. Huh?

Also, most fabulously, I will soon be babysitting during the day, which will be a relief. Especially since an almost one year old--pretty much my favorite age EVER. Toddlers are so adorable, especially when they are first walking.

And that's me. Bowling with kids from the Center for the Visually Impaired tomorrow here in Atlanta...yeah, I'm freakin' excited. Haven't got my dose of that since I quit school. Man, I need me fix.

not poetry number 1

Today was my last day of high school, so I'm thinking, hey, why not turn over a new leaf? I think I'm going to start writing in prose now and then. Bad poetry is fabulous and what not--and it is certainly fantastic with a bottle of sparkling grape Mormon wine--but I want to actually get my thoughts out, not just the children of my thoughts or the parents or the second cousins or you really honestly get the point.

So, today, October Seventh, Two Thousand Seven, new leaf, new way. Doens't mean I'll stop the poetry, it is still my oh so favoritist thing, but I'm going to try this new thing, this prose thing, this journal thing.

It's like a blog. Geesh.

i have no poetry now.

it's been too long. :(