Sometimes I conclude all by myself that I am a major bitch. I take The Boy lightly and he treats me like a princess. He takes me out to watch the stars, out to dinner, out for drinks, out to chase time and burn daylight and all the while he's unbearably sweet while I'm thinking about how the hell to get out of the country.
Is it bad that I give more importance to dreams than to people? I've been chasing the person I've always thought I'd turn out to be for far too long to just give up now because of a penis. Well, he's more than that, but still.
Also, I'm really glad to have my new job but I miss dancing. How can that even be? It was a lousy job in a lousy club full of lousy men, but still. Plus, I have to work extra hard for a a pay that I could have done in two nights at my other job. I'm still not going back to it though.
That being said, I feel bearably light. And it feels wonderful.
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