I've Got a Pocket

Went to quidditch practice today.

Played beater. Then asthma. So much fun.

Then went to the bar with my brother and had two drinks because he wasn’t here for my 21 run.

Things I have now done:

• been to a strip club
• been skinny dipping
• been harassed by a random drunk man while skinny dipping
• had Taco Bell fuck up my order in the same way twice in a row then go “sorry, we’re closed, would you like to come back tomorrow?”

Shaving while angry is a bad idea.

I don’t look like myself without fuzz on my chin.

I cannot describe the happiness explosion that is the aftermath of being picked up by the person I’m crushing on.

Sometimes I don’t swallow pills right and they get stuck in my throat. Then my chest burns for hours. 

The last “I’m proud of you” that stuck with me was from my great grandmother the last time I saw her, which was two years ago. Today I was a pallbearer at her funeral. I can’t figure out exactly what’s going on with me emotionally right now. It’s weird to think about an entire generation of my family being gone.

In one of my dreams last night Neil Patrick Harris kissed me.

He was tipsy. I was worried what his husband would think. And then I woke up and was excited I didn’t dream about the person I like, who I’ve been dreaming about for a week or two. And then I went back to sleep and dreamed about the person I like.

There are some dreams I would rather never have.

Possibly triggering dream under cut.

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Today’s Tools:

• Weed-eater
• Work gloves
• Rake
• Trash bags

Begin yard work!

Sometimes I don’t realize how much guilt I hang onto.

Then something happens that relieves me of said guilt and I go, “Holy shit, did I really have enough room for all of that?”

My guilt capacity far exceeds my expectations.