Eating: Um... life?
Drinking:Dasani water
Wearing: Jeans, black tank top with built in bra, lavender panties, eith a little sleeping kitty on them, my claddagh, green choker and matching earrings, contacts, vestiges of the day's make-up, black belt.
Listening to: *Hummmmrumblerumblerumble* It's my washing machione making contented noises.
Chatting with: Keeping my own counsel.
Thinking: "I need to concentrate on my posture more."
Remembering: Dave's tongue ring.
Glad for: My ability to move past fear into growth.
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Atleast I dont' nit pick! all time - is relative
I feel like a scab picker. You know what I mean, when you have a big ass ole scab, adn you can't help but picka t it, despite the fact that it hurts like hell? We've all done it. I am just doing it on a ental level right now. Whenever it feels like it is beginning to heal, I am going to be better, with no visible scars. I just can't resist. Popping open old wounds with people that are better off, and who apparently desire to be, forgotten. I just need to entertain myself with something else bodily, like picking my nose.
Quote for the entry: "The direct use of force is such a poor solution to any problem, it is generally employed only by small children and large nations." -- David Friedman
all time - is relative