Vickie Madness

I just wrote a whole e-mail with nothing but ramblings. Nothing I wrote made sense or even mattered. I like it, not making sense, but it's funny how it's always the same people...persons...person who becomes the victim of my pages of nonsense.

Maybe I'm afraid to be serious. But I know he knows I can be serious, so why can't I write him a normal mail? What am I soo afraid of? That he'll see me, as I am? After all it is easier to express emotions when you're as far from serious as can be. That way people don't know if you mean it...

I don't know. I probably should get to work and stop thinking so much :o)

I finally found a job, been searching since the middle of august so it was about time. It's only as a cleaner in an office but it's good money so I'm satisfied :o)

So how much dust can wrecking a bathroom really produce? I thinking they must have kept all doors open and maybe used a fan to spread it about really good.

I just spent the last two hours trying to get our apartment to look as used to look, aside from the bathroom that kinda resembles a cave. Therese is coming up tomorrow and is planning to live there. Me, I'm still hidiging out at my parents house. I don't like to breath dust, even though I don't really like breathing fur either, as I do here. Of two evil things i choose...

Now that Therese will be moving in I feel like I want to live there too. I'm tired of living here, out in the suburbs. I'm tired of this fresh air, I want to breathe city air again. I want to have to take the subway places, not the train.

In due time, in due time.