Its 330am and I can't sleep. I probably could if I tried really hard but I finished another book and my mind is going a mile a minute. Books make me think, and when I think I don't sleep. I write. Not about books I want to write, but about life and how it relates to the book I've read.
So I read a romance and thought about John. Main character in the book was "John Kowlawsky" or something like that. I thought it was funny so I got the book, which in turn broke my fragile little heart.
This summer I'm planning on going to England for two weeks. I'm terrified. Not in the normal "Oh his family will hate me..." terrified, no the "Getting this visa is going to suck my balls" terrified. I don't know who to talk too about the letter I need saying in June, when I get back, I will still have a job. I don't know how much money I need in my bank account, if I need a copy of my lease, a blood test or a background check.
And all of this worrying is accomplishing nothing, never does. But I continue to do it anyway. I feel bad that John can come over here every other month, and my family knows him alright (I try not to expose him, he may be scared off.) but I have met his family once, I mean I have talked to them and I like them but its unfair that he's going to eventually move here and as of right now I can count the things they know about me on my fingers and toes.
1.) Sarah thinks I want to hit her in the face with a shovel (I know you read, couldn't resist.)
2.) His brother, Paul, hated the idea at first thinking John was completely insane but apparently is slowly warming up to it.
3.) His mother adores me.
4.) I drink a lot very fast and enjoy wearing the color green.
5.) I blog
6.) I am a complete nerd.
7.) I am a Guitar hero GOD.
8.) I am from Chicago.
9.) I am ... Well that about sums it up I guess. Don't need my toes it would appear.
So I will be taking their family member selfishly away from them and they know almost nothing about me. Because as it turns out I am completely useless at the spoken word. Give me a blank paper and a pen and I can write pages about myself and what I think and things around me. Sit me down and ask me questions that have easy answers and I'm set... But ask me an open ended question like "So tell me about yourself." and all I can think of is, "I like cheese."
I'm so useless it hurts me. And more importantly some how this blog stopped being about the visa and turned into how completely pathetic and selfish I am. Because I am. I always have been and will probably always continue being that way. I think it has something to do with my parents, but then again I could blame everything on my parents if I needed too and it would all make sense, no?
Where are you now Dr. Phill? I have a riddle wrapped in a conundrum covered in chocolate for you!
Coffee is done, and I'm going to sit here chain smoking and playing the sims until my mind stops racing and I feel at peace with myself again. I'm fighting a losing battle with my mind here, my body is no match it would appear.