Not in the mood to write. Just entirely lacking in any desire to sit here and spew words at a page because I have nothing to blog. And no desire to blog. But I make myself do it anyway so here I am. I'm at the point where I don't think any ideas will come along over the course of the evening, so I'm just going to throw some things down and leave well enough alone.
Tomorrow's going to suck. This whole next week is going to suck. Okay, actually, can it just be March already? Or better yet, how about May? May I could do. It'd be nice and warm and this nonsense would be long gone by then (hopefully). But you know, fine. I could even settle for March. Alight, fine. I'm exaggerating. The worst part about tomorrow is today's anticipation. The worst part of next week is my current worry over it. I know that.
I'll be fine. I'm just in a less-than-ideal spot in my life that's wrapping itself up. I just want it to hurry up and end already, but there's nothing I can do right now to accelerate the process, so I guess I'll do my best and just wait it out. Not that I have any other choice. Also trying to work out alternate housing arrangements, so to speak, for next weekend. Anyone that knows me and is willing to work with me here, let me know.
I just need things to get regular again. I need them to settle down into some form of recognizable pattern, even if its not the same one that was in place only a few weeks ago. But it'll be another week or two. And that's fine. I'm doing pretty well right now, and once the transition thing kicks in I'll be able to stabilize, which should be nice. Anyhow, I'm off to go wait anxiously for tomorrow to come already, because I've got nothing better to do with myself tonight.
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