No mood to write, so forcing myself after looking at old pictures on Facebook. Kids getting older, people texting, annoying me… this week has been a test of tests. Like bootcamp when you hop over those walls, climb ropes and throw heavy shit.
Tomorrow, only day off and I have a list of to-do’s as long as some giant dinosaur tail. Because of some people and their… never mind.
My mood is one of those spiked medieval balls on a chain that you swing, and when it hits it fucking hits. Distracting myself from that mood mud, talk myself out of it. Think… I don’t know… living on campus at SSU. So free, nothing harming or entrapping or obligating me.
Snacking on wheat thins, and on my 3rd sparkling fucking water. Fuck these things.
My mood and I are a fighting like tribes, or little nations hundreds of years ago that claim borders but don’t really know what those lines are. It’s humorous, I keep telling myself.
Kids here. Focus on them. Henry asking me for another snack, sweet wee poet chap. Jack reading…. Emma doing something, now sure what. I don’t care, there’s peace, love, THEM.