I've been trying to fly low lately, trying to avoid notice from the bigger birds with the bigger beaks just above me. I take everything much too seriously and then pretend not to, and it's like I'm a little kid holding her breath rather than eat her brussels sprouts. It's just completely ridiculous, and to tell the truth I'm sick-and-tired of being inside my own silly head.
So I figure that at this point, movement in any direction is movement forward.
Camping was fun, although I'm refusing to say so because everyone keeps pestering me about it so that they can I-told-you-so me, and also because I'm stubborn. Sleeping on the ground is tough because I'm a very thin girl with hip bones that jut out, and I sleep on my stomach. So if I ever go again I'll have to find something thicker than a sleeping bag and tent bottom to lay on. I'm glad that I got pestered into going, but you can get that smug look right off your faces because I'm still not going to buy a sleeping bag.
Because I don't write about such things, most of you don't know that I've been on a romantic hiatus for the past couple of months. The new year's resolution that I made and also didn't tell you about was to go on more than four dates with the same boy, and it took me a while to realize that the fact that I needed to make such a resolution constituted something of an unhealthy outlook, not to mention an exhausting pace. So I hit pause and have been giving myself time to reconsider just what I think I'm doing, aside from freaking out and probably treating people poorly.
I don't have any answers yet, but I think I might be learning how not to smash everything I encounter.
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