Tic

I don't know what to do.

I will start writing more things down in a journal. Honestly, in hopes that my future grandchildren or whatever are amused. Or maybe just for my later self to be amused.

I feel like I knew who I was so clearly when I began forming these ideas. It is okay that I don't now.But every time I regain a piece of me it's something that was there all along.

Work. Is not working out. Every email is personal and I hate that. I kind of have two bosses? They occasionally want to tell me what to do? It's frustrating. I know I am playing it safe now. I can feel it.

I run into people I haven't seen in awhile and they all tell me they enjoy hearing about my adventures. They don't know about this part of it I suppose. The part where I own no furniture. How my bedroom is lime green because I dont want to put in the effort of changing them if I'm just going to move. Last year was the year thinking I had a home outside of where I grew up only to realize this year that the safest place for home to be is in me otherwise I risk it changing or going away.

My old dorm from college is completely demolished. An old theater too. My high school band room door is non existent now. And tradition is completely gone because two of my grandmothers died this year and just going to their house was family tradition. They were the reason my family could put on our happy faces and faked it until we made it. One of my grandmas finally started giving me gift appropriate presents a few years ago too.

I spend so much of my time by myself.

On the boy front. You know, I just can't. A guy from tour started telling me he wants to impregnate me. I always thought he was joking about me coming to his room when he would shout it at me after we checked into hotels. Curtis was the first guy that ever felt like a viable option for me. Then again, maybe that was the safe option. It's way easier to love someone when they don't love you. Ali's dropped off the planet the past two weeks. I don't feel needy about our lack of contact. More concerned. I should be amused I heard from him more when he was traipsing around Africa than when he got back to Chicago. I seem to be that safety net for most of the men I run into. Some place holder until the real thing happens.

I know we tell people how to treat us. I just don't know what I'm saying. I illicit the same response from men. More times than not they think I would be a great one night stand and an awesome mother. Clearly I am not telling people the right things when it comes to how they treat me. I don't know how to treat me anymore.

I just have so much time to myself.