Melissa Runs

Sometimes, Melissa runs her legs. Sometimes, she runs her mouth.


I cry. I sleep. I wake up. It’s all better.

Sometimes things really work that way. Somehow the subconscious mind, firing synapses, and all that REM sleep bullshit manage to fix the bug that’s bothering me.

I have a small amount of work to do: enough to keep me busy but not enough to overwhelm me.
I’m nursing the stings of rejection. I’m making concrete plans to move on.

Pretty much every aspect of my life is not working out right now. I’ve got a fucked up sleep schedule (it’s 1:53 a.,m. CST right now), I’ve got a fucked up diet; my small business is lacking and needs help; love life schmove life; and yeah that’s about it. My cats haven’t tried to kill me so as far as kitty mom/cat relationships go, I would consider that one a success.

I’m working on changing it. Change is hard even if it’s good. There’s always an adjustment period of sore muscles (mental, spirital, and physical). So yeah. Cranky pants, here i come.

So yeah not much to tell. I’ll write later.

1 Comment

  1. Is ok. The Impossibility of February, remember?

    March is coming.

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