So lately I've been feeling this calmness, this peace, this lightness, and oh, y'all, it's been lovely.
Maybe it's that I've hit the right dosage of Prozac, or maybe it's because I've got the world's best therapist (SERIOUSLY, you all should see her), or maybe it's because the stress of the school year is done and I'm relaxing into summer, or maybe it's because I'm getting more than 2 hours of sleep a night, or maybe it's because my astrological symbols are lining up in harmony with the tide, or WHATEVER: I'm just damn grateful for it.
My life has this soothing monotony to it. My alarm goes off at 7:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. I'm at work in the Admission office by 8:45 a.m. I'm there til 1:45, and then I go straight to Pius' house. I'm with my Pi-boy until between 6:30 and 7:30, and I'm almost always home by 8 p.m. And then I collapse and read books (actual books! for pleasure! I have time for that now! IT'S AMAZING!) and then go to sleep.
And then, oh y'all, GUESS WHAT: I ACTUALLY HAVE WEEKENDS! I have two separate days that are usually relatively free of stress! I don't have to worry about homework or papers or anything! I get to sleep in! And read! And drink massive amounts of coffee! IT IS LOVELY!
So what I'm saying, I guess, is: Summer 2011? Let's make out.
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I've been taking tons of pictures of Pius lately, because oh my lord he is just the most precious. I've been sharing them all with his parents, and they actually used all pictures I took on his birth announcement! RAWKIN' EGO BOOST, YO. But his mom mentioned (in passing one day) that she didn't want any pictures of him going on the internet, so I'm beyond devastated that I can't share them with you :(
You'll just have to trust me when I say he is actually a dumpling. He's 11 weeks old tomorrow, smiling up a storm, and weighs about 16 lbs. HOLY CHUB, batman. I'm in love.
So right now, in this moment, life is good. I'm damn grateful, and I'm drinking up every minute of happy that I can.
P.S. I'm even starting to appreciate the damn cuteness of the mouse who lives (illegally) in our apartment. He's got balls, this mouse — and no, I'm not talking about his sex, cause I haven't gotten close enough to look — but rather, he'll scamper right out to the middle of the room and just look at us. He's all, "Dude. I'm a mouse. In your house (apartment). DEAL."
We only put up with him because he has adorably large ears. And he always pays his share of the rent on time.