Wednesday, May 20th, 2009
I love living alone.
But, on the other hand, I hate having to wait for the boy to come over after work. I hate that there is nobody to blame for the coffee being out. Have you tried to put a duvet cover on by yourself? It is HARD.
In the same respect, I love that the boy and I have decided not to live together until we’re married (if we decide to marry, that is).
But, on the other hand, I hate having to call him to tell him silly things. I wish I could instead just turn to him on the couch to tell him said silly thing. I hate packing a bag to go stay at his house. I hate not waking up next to him every single morning.
I love my job.
But, on the other hand, I hate my commute. I miss leaving my house at 7:15 and arriving at work at 7:30. Now, I leave my house at 7:15 and barely arrive by 8:00. (Please note, this is the only thing I miss about old job).
I’m proud of the way I “turned out,” despite having a really tumultuous childhood.
But, on the other hand, I didn’t deserve what my mother put me through. At 30 years old, some things still haunt me. I wish I had memories of a happier childhood.
I’m thrilled with the relationship my father and I have.
But, on the other hand, I’m sad that it took as long as it did for us to get here.
I love having this blog for the friendships it’s fostered and the release it provides.
But, on the other hand, I wish I’d kept some things back.