I spent one half hour this evening packing up some of my books. Emphasis on some. I still have about half of the books left on my hopechest to pack up. Unfortunately, there aren't anymore boxes to pack them up in. I also need boxes for all the things on my dresser. That's right. I'm packing my things up. I hope to start work on my bedroom soon, and there's no way I'm leaving my books out when I sand then paint! I still have yet to get the paint, but that's a minor detail. Soon.
I spent a little more time, sitting on my bed, listening to Nikki Yanofsky while I thought. It's hard to just sit and think now...it can hurt to think too much. I used to love just sitting and thinking, but now I shouldn't.
I try to write...really write, and I can't seem to come up with anything. Sure I write...I write a lot. But nothing meaningful. At least not lately, it seems. The words just won't form right.
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