Eleven years ago, after my first semester of college, I changed my major from Psychology to English Writing. When I told her, she kind of frowned and asked me what I was going to do with that degree. I told her, a little haughtily, that I was going to become a writer. I mean, obviously I was going to becoming a writer...that's all I wanted to do. All I was destined to do.
First of all, I am never going to the East End ever again. Ever. The amount of traffic there was ridiculous and, I swear to you, people who live on the East End live in this kind of bubble...they don't know what happens in the real world...or even the rest of the Island. And the definitely don't know how to drive with other people. Andy and I spent more time dodging accidents and stupid drivers who cut us off.
Last Saturday the idea of adoption was just that, an idea...my husband and I know that we are adopting (because I cannot have children of my own) but we hadn't started more than just thinking about it. Now everything is sort of coming into fruitation. I'm not saying that it's going to be an easy process, or even a quick one, but it was just like BAM, it's all happening. It's scary...and exhilarating. And it feels like a piece of me is falling into place.
See that face right there? That little white face with the goofy smile? She's adorable, isn't she? I bet, right now, you're sitting there, looking at my picture, and are like "aww, she's so adorable I just want to smoosh her." Trust me, when she gives you that look, all you want to do is cuddle her...I know from experience. But don't let that adorable little look trick you. This dog...this doofy dog that doesn't look like she has a care in the world, is a mastermind panty eater.
Don’t let the picture of my (sort of) smiling face fool you. I’m not awake in the slightest today. In fact, I feel like a zombie just going through the day and hoping I can survive. Even as I write this, my eyelids are drooping and I just want a blanket and my pajamas.
My husband drives me up the wall. Sometimes I'm so aggravated with him that I want to strangle him! Does that make me a bad wife? Admitting it might, but you can't say that you've never thought the same way about your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend. At least one time in your life, you thought this. And, if you're honest with yourself, it's more than just one time. I'm just the one that will openly admit it.
You don't know this, however, but with each word I'm writing here on my blog, a part of me is telling myself that they suck. That each word is wrong and horrible and I should delete it all. Or better yet, delete this whole blog. I have nothing really to say, right? So what's the point? And this part of me is saying this so loud to the rest of me that the rest of me is starting to believe it....