Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Being crazy is time consuming.

So its effin' cold out. So I hear. I'm in bed. And still warm. I'd like to continue my rant from last post and feel sorry for myself for the next few days. I have too many things to do in a short period of time- mostly things I want to do- but I get overwhelmed and end up not doing any of them. Its Monday morning- and my week is already full. I just want to get a move on this move- but more of that later.

Monday- Work and the Gym...again counting down to St Maarten.

Tuesday- Work, Spinning, and Dinner with the girls...I planned it, but I don't really have time.

Wednesday-Work, Gym, Photographing a band..that is building up my 'colorful' resume. I'm still in the process of figuring out how to be paid for being awesome and a 'Jane' of all trades...

Thursday- Work, Snowboarding...if we don't all die in this next blizzard...makes me hate my car more-but then I remember that I will get a new car (or new to me) next January.

Friday- Recover from snowboarding, gym, go see an allergist because I am so over having hives all the time, actually make a scarf that I'm getting paid for, and moveeee, dinner with S & N....wait I think I'm supposed to go to a concert...crap.

Saturday- Work...attempting to do all the things on my list that I didn't do on their allotted days, but going to some party instead.

Sunday- Repeat Saturday, minus the work part.

Back to the stress of the move. The thing is, is that its not actually stressful. Its rather leisurely actually. What it really is, is me getting in my own way. Sabotaging myself.

I'm moving in with a super great person who is truly lovely, and kind, and funny, and makes me want to do awesome things and be a better person. Yet, I've convinced myself that he doesn't really want me to live with him. That I'm putting him out. That I'm pushing too hard. I take his lackadaisical attitude towards me moving in as his avoidance of it. Ironically, its something I love about him- how relaxed he is- but its something I hate about him-because sometimes there's no sense of urgency-when there should be. I know that he cares about me, but I question whether he's ready for this all to happen.

Luckily, I can talk to him about it.
And tell him how I feel.
And I hopefully only come off as mildly crazy.
And he'll still love me.
And want me there.
With him.
And all my crazy.

This came up when I googled crazy. I like it. Found here.

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