creep

You're so fucking special.  I wish I were
a) special
or b) could fade away like a stranger's shadow in a club.  Completely.  Painlessly.

How German/emo/teenager, right?  Ah, well.  I'm on the rag (kinda).  And one has to keep ones sh*t together around little ones.

It's funny.  The more I'm around kids the more I realize that I do want one.  And that I couldn't possibly do my job and have a kid.  It's just not practical.  And my good peasant stock blood is appalled at all sorts of things I do.  I assume my body would reject itself if I did something like work solely to pay for the cost of childcare just because I like my job.

(I secretly think I would work up until about four weeks after maternity leave terminated and then turn in my notice or switch to part-time; spend the rest of the time raising spawn and doing freelance work.  Doesn't everyone?  I mean to say.)

The world would probably go on spinning and all, but just because it's relentless that way.

Would it be better to be more nomadic?

Worse to plant?

What?  More people vs. less people?  It seems I can't do much beyond 3 years.  And then those things do not maintain.  Not really.  Not in my heart, my head, my blood.  It's just my personality type, I know.  But, oh man.  AwKwArD.

But things are mainly okay.  One more Big Performance.  Things Are Happening.

Motions are being made.  It's looking like I'll be able to do my own thing (if I want and can gently make out with The Fear, banishing it to others), teaching-wise rather than being tethered to a studio.  Which might be for the best, I don't know.  I do appreciate the art of the subtle kiss-off.  So I ain't mad.

With Alice's love.