Eight hours later...
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Love is like a pair of broken in shoes or broken in jeans, and that's what i miss. they feel awkward at first, but then they get broken in. when it's broken in and comfortable, you know each other, and are relaxed. that's the best part. don't buy shoes that don't fit. treat them well. make sure they're strong. look at the nicks and scuffs as time goes on. those are tails and stories that break them in and build their comfort. tighten the laces, loosen the laces, re-tie the laces, and take time to admire what is there.
One, two, three, four, five, this is indeed a first, but there is no room for me feet.
There is about seven hours of work that needs to get done, so i'll wait until i have about six hours left to do all of it.
Society was different at that time, but love wasn't any different.
It's on, it's off, it's on, it's off, that's just part of the trip, not a big deal, i see it all the time.
Productivity has reached zero for the day, time to reload.
From sick to italicized sick.
I date so hard that I meet moms on the first date.Â
There's a little bit of Tuesday leftover inside me.
All the right things in all the right places at all the right times.
All the things must happen this month, not a single no, not a single maybe.