I’m moving to the island in a few days, but every time I think of leaving this city, I realize how in love with it I am.
In other news: I’ll be living in a cute little place in the middle of the island. My summer will consist of meditation, baking, working, running, lifting, photographs, friend visits, and silence. I’ll be living alone for the first time in a couple of years.
I know it’s for the best that I let my dog stay with my Aunt and Uncle for the summer while I work extremely long hours. And I know that she’ll be happy with them because they worship her. But living alone for the first time in years without the company of a sarcastic, wiggly, warm, little animal feels like a sentence of unhappiness. I hate moving weenie around so much. I wish I could just settle into medical school and have a home. A steady, consistent home. A garden. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never stop moving because when I stay in one place too long, I catch up to myself.
Gah, I just got really sad. Time to go cuddle-rape the dog.
Also, I’ll be making pastries for the farmer’s market on Saturdays. Isn’ this font cute?
Also, I love this:
Also, Noah, it’s TIME FOR YOU TO COME HOME DAMMIT.
Also, I can’t find my iPod.
I need a hug.