researching, writing, reading, listening, note-taking, test-completing, I am exhausted. I would like some soy milk to go along with my Coco-Puffs, please, but V--who, I should note, is not even vegan--used the last of it. The whole-wheat bread, which I was thinking of using for my (alternate meal of) peanut butter and jam, contains dry milk and whey. The fruit drawer is empty--aside from several fly-bitten, worm-hosting apples--and my car has been blocked by the Mitsubishi, which means I can't drive to the distant grocery store to resolve any of the above circumstances.
But really I'm just bitching because sometimes, (read: today), I feel like I'm in over my head with the rest of my life, and it is such a relief to have something so petty to rage about. I can point to all this and say, I miss Portland, I miss having full control over what awaits me in my refrigerator when I get home, I miss having the flexibility and freedom (and driveway space) to get into my car and return twenty minutes later with the components of tonight's dinner, and tomorrow's breakfast and lunch and dinner, and the breakfasts and lunches and dinners for the rest of the week, without fretting over which housemate or which sibling would be most tempted to steal what groceries, and, with that in mind, what groceries I should most carefully hide.
Without further ado, then, let me point to all this and say, I miss Portland. Et cetera.
I will log off now and attack this homework assignment I've been avoiding, because I have decided--just seconds ago!--that I no longer want to be the old Julie who procrastinates by smearing nonsense over her corner of the world wide web as the clock tocks away the minutes she could have used to plod through the bullets of her to-do list. Good-bye, then, and good night.
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