Oh how the weeks fly by.
Monday night was insane. The story is too wild to tell until I have the pictures to back it up. Champagne bar (too expensive, so we bailed), then the Kerryman and the Fados and then god only knows where. Once again, we hailed toward the sounds of thumping bass and flashing lights.
There were twisted ankles, cab rides, 4am pizzas, mashed potatoes, sleep.
Then Tuesday came.
Work. Babysitting for three different families three different days.
Tomorrow a paper is due. I’m nearly done, hanging on the edge of my sanity.
Tomorrow starts early and ends late. Not done with class until 930.
Friday, please, Friday.
Flight is at 845. 845. 845.
Let it come.
To love, to live, to be eternally annoyed by stupid men.
To sleep, perchance to dream.
I’ve had terrible dreams lately. Nothing left but a return to where I don’t want to be. Myself, my mind exploring things that should not be. Even dream Katie doesn’t want to return to him in the end.
And Hemingway rounds out my list of annoying men, writing and writing and making me read it and then consider it:
“Remember everything is right until it’s wrong. You’ll know when it’s wrong.” “You think so?” “I’m quite sure. If you don’t, it doesn’t matter. Nothing will matter then.”