If we're being honest, Cordelia, I'm not giving you or your family the attention you deserve right now. I'm trying, but I cannot focus for the life of me. All day.
I woke up horrendously early, armed with good intentions. I made a proper breakfast (that is, not just toast), did my thang, got dressed, packed my bags, took some very intense notes on criticism of The Alchemist for about ten minutes, then went in to drop off writing samples and post a few letters.
Going to see Where the Wild Things Are with a group of friends was, perhaps, not my greatest decision of the week. Don't get me wrong--I loved every minute of it and spent the entire film trying not to openly weep. I left trapped in a glass case of emotion, but my soul was definitely better for it. Except for almost crying when I dropped the cup of tea I'd bought to keep myself going in the library. I'm a woman. I'm allowed.
Never made it to the library. Instead, went to a lovely choral concert of Christmas songs that made my heart sing. Not as well as those performing, of course, but whatever.
Friends were right in telling me to come home. I'm totally wrecked for no apparent reason. What is this nonsense? I'm reading lines from Lear and tearing up like a little bitch. I think that I just have a lot of feelings.
My soul, though a bit wobbly, is in a good place. Plus, my wonderful new scarf kept me warm and happy all day.
Since it is the holiday season, I've decided to be a selfish skank and imagine the things I would buy myself if Daddy Warbucks ever returns my calls.
I'm looking at you, bro!
My lack of funds prevented me from ordering this myself in time to get the t-shirt bundle. This is actually the first Christmas I've ever wanted to be asked by my parents what I'd like. Possibly because it's the first I've had an exact answer.
I've been dying to get this for the past couple of years, but I always put it off.
I have a lot of first seasons. It's a problem.
No more box sets now, or we'll never be done.
This illustrates exactly how lame I am.
Creepy? Perhaps. Gorgeous? Fo' sho'.
A custom-made dress? Yes, puhleez, Warbucks.
Technically it's a wedding dress, but I technically don't give a fuck.
I would learn to walk in heels for/make sweet love to these boots.
+ everything in Lush, a new lens for my camera, a typewriter, a record player for the house here, tights that don't ladder, fabulous handwriting, world peace and a puppy.
What I will actually get:
-to see my family and dog
-to hang out with my friends
-to play with my goddaughter and meet my new baby cousin
-to trim the tree
-to walk on the beach with my mama
-to watch NCIS marathons with my dad
-underwear, socks, hugs, home-cooked meals, and some kind of board game (YES)
Not going to lie, this second list is a far better motivator for me to get my ass in gear. It sounds lame, I know, but thinking about hugs from my lovelies is making me do this.