Here I am, sipping my black iced coffee (no ice), relaxing and I happen to overhear some lady exclaim, “My god, this life would be so much easier if I just didn’t have kids, but I guess it’s too late for that.” 

Talk about a doodle that can’t be undid…(home skillet)
name that movie 
In the utmost seriousness I’ve been thinking about big decisions lately, partially because I appear to be going no where fast in this lifetime and partially because I am signing my new lease on Thursday.
I’ve made a lot of big decisions in my time on earth: moving to NYC, leaving NYC, living with my ex, falling in love, cheating on someone, breaking up, moving out with my mother, quitting jobs, applying for jobs, etc.
Statistically my choices tend to lean towards the poorer side of the judgement spectrum, and I cannot even trust my gut because the decisions was afraid of were the one’s that turned out the best for me. 
I was terrified to drop out of PACE, horrified to rent an apartment with my mother; I was even apprehensive when I adopted my cat Morticia. 
These were, hands down the best decisions I’ve made.
So this past Monday, when I met my new landlord and signed over my security deposit, all I could feel was sick. 
Hopefully that’s a good sign.
In other news. 
I cannot wait for the semester to end so that I can read books again. 
I spent full days on my winter break devouring novels and I miss that horribly.  
Well this post was basically just to put something up because I’ve been real shitty about posting.
Normally I would go back and edit and stuff, but I’m on break from work and do not have the time so don’t judge me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s