Love in a Thunder Storm?

I really love my boyfriend. There is a good reason why. One of many is the following:

He obliges me. Constantly. Some may think this is silly, but I don’t. I do things for him, he does things for me. He puts up with my crazy antics, my silly thoughts & my wacko photographs of us.

I also put up with his neurotic cleanliness of his fingers (he hates touching food with his hands).

I love you, hot stuff.

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Quarter Life Crisis

My therapist long ago once told me that I would never be satisfied. I don’t know if this was the best thing to say to a person like me or if it was a blessing in disguise.

I’m still trying to figure it out.

I admire people these days that know what they want to do in life. And I don’t mean just having a job they love. I’m talking about life.

Great friends, great lover, great job, great everything.

Still not satisfied. I want more. I want be able to create & learn & love more & not hate so much.

This brings me back to the satisfaction point.

All the things I do and love satisfy me. Will other things add to my satisfaction?

Every 6 months I go through a spell. I freak out on myself. ‘Never satisfied…’ plays over and over and over again in my head.

And I don’t know how to stop it. I’m an arist. Deep down inside I yearn to create and paint and take photographs, but there is something holding back. It’s called fear and rejection. This is normal, right?

April is a Damn Fool or Why I love my Cat

I’m becoming … I don’t know what you call it. I remember the days when I could party 3 days in a row. Those days? Far behind me. And the partying isn’t necessarily ‘hardcore’. It just involves copious amounts of alcohol.

I woke up this morning with 4 empty wine bottles. That’s a lot. However, I’m sure I drank 2 of those. I remember at 2am playing Bohnanza thinking.. this is going to hurt tomorrow. And it does. Never again. That’s what I said last time, but I promise. I can’t do it anymore. My body doesn’t like it & neither do I.

***

My Grandmother is moving into a ‘home’. I’m spending every weekend for a few hours helping my Aunt clean her place. Cleaning meaning junking stuff. It’s sad to see someones stuff no longer theirs but just a box going to somebody else or a thrift store. I am unsure how to feel about it all. At first I was totally emotional & crying. Because I don’t what she’s feeling inside (she can’t speak english anymore) and because her neurological disorder doesn’t allow her to properly communicate even in Croatian.

It’s hard. It’s also created a family rift that spawned. And I’m not sure it’s going to blow over this time. But I hope it does.

We can’t choose our parents, but man I thought it would be easier at age 30 to get along with them. It’s not. It feels harder .. it’s draining and exhausting.

***

I’m currently house and pet sitting. The dogs like to remind me that they hate me and miss their owners by pissing in every corner that closely resembles a ‘tower’. I am unhappy about this, but I cannot make them stop pissing. Oh, there was also a poop as well, nicely left on the carpet.

Also, I love my cat. She doesn’t piss everywhere or yell at me.  I feed her, she’s satiated. I pet her, she’s satiated. I play with her, she’s satiated.

HUMANS ARE NEVER SATIATED.