Park the car, drop the phone, sleep on the floor, dream of me.

Good morning, and happy time change everyone!

What is it about Sunday Morning's that just make you want to sing? It's a grey grey damp day outside. No more than -9 outside, and yet I want to hug the sky as I look out my kitchen window, with a mug of coffee in my hand.
Sometimes TheCityILiveIn drives me insane, but today, I don't know. I'm very at peace with it.
I don't want to to change a single thing.
I don't want you to change a single thing.

When I look into your eyes, I can see a love restrained. And darling, when I hold you, don't you know I feel the same?

I think I'll paint my toenail's purple today. Or maybe red.
This morning was not very productive for me. I had some coffee. Some water. I watched my sister play video games. I played them with her. I texted Ee, who seems to be having the same sort of thoughts as I am today.

And if you want to love me, than darling don't refrain

Every weekend I assign myself a project.
As I purchased a new binder, and two new notebooks on friday, I am almost done copying all my bio notes into one notebook, so they are all in one place. And there are a lot of notes to copy. I've done 12 pages, and still have another unit to go. Sheesh.

There is something about LipSmackers. The taste of them, the smell of them, the feel of them, that makes me feel very sentimental. I put them on and feel so young again. Especially the Wild Raspberry one. I used to use that one all the time. One friday, on a whim, I purchased eight LipSmackers. I haven't worn them since I was... 12? I bought Vanilla, Mango, Cotton Candy, Kiwi, Tropical Punch, Wild Raspberry, Watermelon, and Strawberry. I like the watermelon one the best :)

(happy birthday tomasz! i'm glad we exist!)

What makes you feel young?

You're sad because you're sad.

It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.

Go see a shrink or take a pill,

or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll

you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad

but some get over it.

Count your blessings. Better than that,

buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.

Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?

Your sadness, your shadow,

whatever it was that was done to you

the day of the lawn party

when you came inside flushed with the sun,

your mouth sulky with sugar,

in your new dress with the ribbon

and the ice-cream smear,

and said to yourself in the bathroom,

I am not the favorite child.

My darling, when it comes

right down to it

and the light fails and the fog rolls in

and you're trapped in your overturned body

under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you

and igniting the tarmac beside you head

or else the floor, or else the pillow,

none of us is;

or else we all are.

Margaret Atwood