My stomach hurts. A lot. This doesn't really have anything to do with anything, but it is pretty prevalent in my mind. I'm also getting a cold. Which I guess is pretty normal for someone just starting to work at a preschool. I love working there, and love the kids. But damn am I sick a lot.
That said, there is a reason I am writing. I kind of, sort of, definitely slept with my friend, let's call him X. Let me tell you a little about X. He's 23, in the army, and has a son just a couple months from turning two. He has been to Iraq three times. He had to join the army to get out of jail. His ex-wife fucked him over big time. She slept with his soldiers. He's got some baggage.
Not to say I don't have baggage. I have as much as he does, if a different kind.
It wont work. I can't be in a relationship with him. It would be like a blind person helping another blind person see. I will explain more. I think I need to go puke.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
My name isn’t Anna. But you can call me that anyways. I like peeling off paint. And getting goosebumps. And hiccups. And symmetry. And making new friends. And sounding out the letter "r." And taking pictures of dead flowers. And baby shoes. I don’t like sneezing. Or tile floors in bathrooms with no pattern. Or popcorn. Or pelvic thrusts in commercials. Or Nickelback. Or when I can't find aesthetic beauty in something. Or crooked pictures on walls. I'm little neurotic, and a little OCD. I’d like to meet everyone in the world just to see if I can be friends with them. But I don’t think I’d be friends with the devil, thank you.
About
My name isn’t Anna. But you can call me that anyways. I like peeling off paint. And getting goosebumps. And hiccups. And symmetry. And making new friends. And sounding out the letter "r." And taking pictures of dead flowers. And baby shoes. I don’t like sneezing. Or tile floors in bathrooms with no pattern. Or popcorn. Or pelvic thrusts in commercials. Or Nickelback. Or when I can't find aesthetic beauty in something. Or crooked pictures on walls. I'm little neurotic, and a little OCD. I’d like to meet everyone in the world just to see if I can be friends with them. But I don’t think I’d be friends with the devil, thank you.
Me.
Older Stuff
I wrote your name on an index card, so you could come to me in a flash.
1 comments:
Anna,
I just read your blog. Happened upon it by accident. My son put up a blog about his travels in Australia on the site, and I went to look and ran accross yours. I hope all is well with you. Somehow, reading what you wrote made me worry about you. I am not sure why. Please remember that anything you write on the internet is there forever. There is nothing anyomous about it. Be careful about sleeping with guys who say their ex-wives or girlfriends screwed them over. There might have been a good reason....
If there is a god, and he is playing a joke on you, I think that this is a good thing....at least he has a sense of humor. It is worse, as I suspect that it is not humor he is exercising but rather his ineptness. That is more frightening....
Good luck...
Someones dad
Post a Comment