you have made it so much harder just to go on.

listening: paramore, that's what you get

My house feels enormous right now. 

Walking in by myself was bizarre and knowing that it's going to just be me for probably at least a week is so weird. I just sent Craig off on the bus to the Sky Shuttle to the airport, and I'm curled up on my mattress beside my unfinished bed blogging and listening to Paramore and thinking about the fact that when I shut the door from the front hall into the living room, it echoed, because my house is still empty and so many boxes still sit in my garage because for two evenings straight, Craig and I have been fighting with putting together my bed, and now his room has some posters and whatnot up but is devoid of furniture and I just want to wave my finger and have my room be done too. 

I'm going to the garage to get boxes.

Email me for the address if you're into letter-sending or visiting.

ykylm,

rae