My back hurts. My legs ache. And my bladder's acting up like the spiteful little mensch it is.
I had a good weekend.
Went back to R's Sunday night and vegged. I think it's sad that we're both so stressed out that all we want to do when we get home is tune out and watch TV (that should be happening when we're 35, not NOW.) On the other hand, it makes for nice, simple relax-time.
I was lying in (R's) bed this morning, thinking about the differences between now and this time last year. I feel like we've grown together more. Like, we're more familiar with each other, have more inside jokes ("TIME FOR A NAP!"), understand each other more. Isn't that what it's all about? This weekend left me more and more sure that I'm on the right track. R and I are so comfortable together... but I can ask him about anything, voice my worries and fear, be a little girl in front of him. I've never trusted any man this much.
(Do you remember, sweetie? "I hope we'll find the balance..." On the back of your plastic picture-frame, behind your photo. Well, I think we've found it.)
Readin' "Do You Consider Yourself a Postmodern Author: Interviews With Contemporary English Writers" (Including Pratchett and Julian B
Listenin' to nothing
Thinkin' about bread and bed, in that order =p
Most recently I was 
