It's raining. I haven't slept for more than 5 hours a night in almost a week. So I'm not sure if I'm chilled because of the weather or because I'm slowly dying of something.
There's a quiet discontentment. A roughhousing between heart and head as I type here. Maybe it's exhaustion.
Shouldn't I be writing on a beach somewhere? I'm young. I have a passport. I have a laptop. And I'm ridiculously neurotic and responsible and practical. And borderline boring. Someone, take me away. Sigh.
Maybe I just need sleep. After Lost.
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2 comments:
Dear Miz Hemmingway - Cuba has some wonderful all inclusives - suggest you expense it to the boss on the way out the door. . .simply stating "I'll be gone for two weeks"
Plan B - Hide out at your parent's place and be pampered with Chicken Soup for the soul!
the beach in orillia this time of year leaves a little to be desired
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