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expenditure
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I’m making a turkey dinner tomorrow so I can freeze some in case I have to go to jail on friday. I have to get things ready so its less hard on splat and the babies when I’m gone.
I cant sleep again. I even went to the gym and beat myself up as much as I could in hopes that I would be tired tonight. My injury prevents me from working my arms much, but I push myself on lower and mid body. I get on the treadmill and run as if to something, or run away from something; perhaps my fat ass.
I’m doing my best to purge myself of all the things that aren’t constructive, and foolish. In doing so I lose some passion, some light, some magic and some fun.
Sanguinity languishes.
My burgundies have to be muted. They are glorious and beautiful while I’m drunk on them, rare and seductive, but they betray me.
Splat caught me staring at my face in the mirror today. I pointed out the lines on my forehead and expressed dismay. He said I had those lines when he met me. He said "You looked like someone who had felt something".
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