The C Word
My laptop is in my living room roaring. I’m sure it’s severely damaged but that really doesn’t have anything to do with anything, other than that the lack of a laptop situation made me swipe my phone’s screen for the WordPress app and proceed to slide down my keyboard.
Yeah. Brand spanking new cell phone (the LG Mach) and it has a keyboard. I’m a QWERTY girl in a touchscreen world.
Lately, life has been good. Nothing extraordinary has happened. In fact, it’s been rather peaceful by most standards. There are words and boys and too much money spent and more tweets than blog posts or journal entries, but none of this is worth complaining about. Especially when I’ve had about two consecutive weeks of looking in the mirror and not frowning at how awful I am.
The boys are, well, being boys. There’s the one I probably like a little more than I should. A new one who seems…interesting to say the least. And a couple who are probably better off pretending I no longer exist.
None of that is bad, though. It just is. I deal accordingly.
There are things I’m no longer interested in explaining or apologizing for. Not wanting to get married is at the top of my list. I kept trying to let Life make a case for Holy Matrimony but it made my internal dialog too messy. I’ve accepted that I’m a square peg and marriage is a round hole. Perhaps I will run into a partner with whom to play Spades with the cards up and make our own rules. (Rules that include no marriage but a black gold and amesthyst promise ring. Cuz I want one.) Maybe not. Either way, life gotta be lived and I’m more dedicated to enjoying mine than I’ve ever been.
I’m also done apologizing for my interest in astrology. Yes, I’m one of *those* people who will ask you your sign and frown up if
you’re a Capricorn I don’t like the answer. If that makes me ridiculous or foolish, so be it. I doubt it would be the first nor last time I’m referred to as such.
And finally. I’m done apologizing for not being goal-oriented. The only person I’ve been remorseful about this with is myself. The overly critical, left over Type A personality in my head who is convinced I’ve turned into a hippy loser. I’ve been projecting that voice onto the people in my life (I’m surrounded by a slew of Type As), when really it’s just me looking for another reason to convince myself that I’m terrible and unworthy. I’m over it.
I’m content. I’m comfortable. Those are not cuss words.