Lonely corner of the internet,
Let me dust the cobwebs off you. There, that's better.

Every time I reach a transition stage in my life, I somehow always end up here. I have written in this space since I was 16, I am eternally thankful for blogspot, for giving me a space to write poorly.  It is probably the best gift I have ever given myself.

This week has been fairly rough. I wake up early, drink tea, and write in pretty stationery to make people think I have it together.  I don't have it together right now.  Caffeine isn't strong enough.  I have been fairly productive, but most of it has been wasted on worrying about the future and worrying about whether I should be worrying. Worry is a noun, something tangible and real. It is as real as the dream itself. Worry is a verb. It's an adverb too, a description attached to everything I do.

If I'm honest with myself, without being dramatic, I realize that there are brief moments of clarity when all the haziness dissipates and I stop worrying for a moment. I am honest with myself and my abilities. I am confident and funny. "There is so much I should be proud of! And thankful for!" I remind myself. I am not depressed, I am not sad, I am just impatient. But then I see some of my friends moving on to bigger and better things and I feel left behind, waiting for my turn if it ever will come.

So here I am... it is 10:04, September 2014. It is cold, bugs are getting into my apartment and I don't know how, and I am really sleepy. That's all. Hope tomorrow will be a better today. Today wasn't terrible but tomorrow will be better.