Sometimes I miss the previous version of myself with her thick thick hair (my hair is thinning rapidly on these wicked pills) and her creative energy driving her to write something every day and doodle fairy tale pictures on index cards but she is asleep inside the slow moving automaton I am now.
I was off this weekend which was lovely and I made banana bread for M's birthday cake by request and I made little buttermilk biscuits with self rising flour because that is all self rising flour is good for and they were light and crisp and buttery and I could have eaten my weight in those little bastards.
I am binge watching The Blacklist on netflix starring a very weathered looking James Spader and all of the characters are morally ambiguous not just the criminals and I eat the episodes like those little red candy fish.
I need to give up on everthing I do so I can endlessly watch crime dramas and consume many varieties of homemade biscuits. I tire of you, real grownup world.
poetry and careerism revisited
9 hours ago