oh no, here comes that sun again.
so i think i’ve been trying to hide from the lord, god almighty.
it’s been over a month and i’m in the mood to tell you, aunt, uncle, brother, cousin, ex-boyfriend, mother, spam robot, that i haven’t been praying or listening or speaking or feeling in a little while longer than i should and i’m almost (thisclose) to the point of getting up early, making some coffee, reading the bible, etc. how many times am i allowed to say that?
i read everyone else’s blogs and i am happy for the diversity in your thoughts! my blog is usually about three things: job. dog. or fashion. you are breathing! growing! living! if you’re trying to fake it, you’ve done it well. i am convinced you’re happy. with or without him. i am not suspicious.
i’m the one with the problem, here.
i have seen god sneak in to meetings and abandoned buildings and my belly and i think about athens and how there was at least a week where i would get up and read my bible and pray for at least an hour every day. wow. do you remember that? isn’t that some crazy shit? and i felt so connected and so alive, with a purpose, even! and not just being there to cover city council spats or columbus happenings — i mean, that’s a good part of it, but what’s the point if you’re dying, anyway? — and i was scared to death the whole time.
remember the front room? and all the crazy things that happened there? wow.
this house is messy! i haven’t felt like this since i was on birth control.
so i have some great friends at work.
a former sorority president! can you believe it?! i never thought … we’re so different, but it’s worked out really well so far. for me at least. she has broadened my horizons. and she lets me stare at her for that hour on Monday after i have turned in all my stories (8-10!)and my brain is complete mush and i can’t really do anything but that.
she and our commentary editor, whose picture i can show you, came to paul bunyan with me. isn’t that nice?
have you stayed with me this long?
i owe you something.
right now, i am growing a baby inside my belly. and it’s not seth’s!
did you ever think you’d type “taco baby” in a google image search and come up with just what you needed? god bless the dubya-dubya-dubya. amen
my editor told everyone i had some magazine-y like profile stories. and he never tells anyone anything good, or so i hear! score! ha!
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