I'm on my way to Erik's to give his sis a massage (yay! I love his sister) and then home to do some enforced writing.
I still don't have a job when I thought I did but apparently they want me to come in a month or more from now and just.... no. I can't do that. So back to the grindstone tomorrow. The economy sucks, the restaurant industry right now really sucks, and such is life.
I've noticed not having a job and being stuck at home with an eight year old every day has made me kind of loopy, for lack of a better word. When I'm around people (Melanie, since my only social life is school) I ramble. Then I talk about books and theories about them and then I'm off on some tangent that has people looking at me funny. I think I'm under-stimulated.
Weird as this it might be to surmise form this, I'm strangely happy. Or, content. Yes, I'm stressed as all hell about money and my car sits on E more times then it's even three notches from it, but I don't get worked up. I sleep at night.
I notice I don't update as much on here right now, but I really don't feel like I have much to say. Hit me up on twitter or FB, I seem to do better with a short sentence than anything substantial.