It’s one of those days when I miss Mr. F so much I don’t know how I’ll get by, but I will somehow. Yesterday was one of ’em, too. All my life I’ve longed for love, to give and receive it, but I never thought it would be like this, so one-sided, so lonely. So strong. It’s a little scary sometimes. If he knew–if he knows–maybe it’d scare him some, too. There’s nothing puny about it.
Well. That’s out and now maybe I can get on with my day. Sometimes you just have to spit it out before it chokes you.
I’ve been needing a haircut (there’s a change in topic for you) for some time now. I don’t like it too long for several reasons, but mostly I hate it brushing up against my neck all the time. I’m sensitive to that kind of thing. Anyway, it needed to come off, so into the bathroom I went last night, armed with some information from Wikihow, and half an hour later, I had a haircut. It’s not perfect, and I’m never able to get the back just right, and it’s not as short as I would like, but it’s done, and it looks pretty decent. This morning, I did my roots, and that looks pretty decent, too. Done and done.
My point is that the mundane tasks of life still need doing even while the opera rages in the background. Feel what you feel, but get on with the business of living while you’re feeling it, and take whatever honest, and honorable, happiness you can in what you do and who you spend your time with. That’s what I’m trying my best to do, and some days I get it right.
I’m outta here for now–there’s some living that needs to be done.