A typical weekend morning conversation
Me (yawning and rubbing my eyes): I love waking up next to you.
Him: I like it too.
Me: You didn't let me finish.
Me: I love waking up next to you because it means you didn't kill me in my sleep.
Things are things, yo.
I am saddened to learn that Paul Newman, the man I both respect for his incredible movies (Cool Hand Luke) and his witty and tasty salad dressings, has passed. He has and will always be one of my 'actors older than me who I'd definately marry', so it's with a sad heart that I take him off the list. Every time one of them dies it makes me feel older - the older we get, the faster they go.
The boy is great, really. I have one minor bone to pick with him but I'm going to wait with that until he gets back from his birthday weekend wedding trip (this was something planned well before he and I met). Nothing serious at all, so no worries.
I'm back on the market for second jobs. I love mine, but I don't make enough money to feel safe anymore. Like, safe should my car take a shit or safe if something came up. I have no savings, no health insurance, and no credit cards. I do have a loan with a couple grand room on it, but really, it's a line of credit so it isn't even my money. This girl is BROKE, ya'll. I can afford food and shelter etc., but any money that comes in goes straight back out. I cannot wait to cohabitate with someone for the sole fact that I'll get to split rent and utilities. I won't get a roommate though - this girl likes her space.
I love my new car. Well, new-to-me car. I've had the Golf for about a month or so now and I swear to god if I don't hug it every time I get in it. It's dusty though, so I have no idea how THAT happened, but other than the constant vacuuming it looks like I'll be doing it is awesome.
I really cant think of one other thing right now.
Viva la Douchebag!
I'm great, just busy as all hell. But really, really great.
Looks like this one is finally stickin', ya'll, and he's a hoot, very sweet, and we've had so many adventures already in just this past month that I'm starting to lose count.
We've got plans for halloween, next summer, road trips... yeah - we're talking about this stuff already.
So, since every damn time I mention a boy here he turns into a douchebag and heads for the hills, let's test this theory again, shall we?