I keep saying Two Thousand and Ten. Which, is apparently WRONG. I also keep writing 200, only to catch myself and go back and insert a 1 before the last 0. I’m still thinking about lists I want to make of things that happened in the last decade.
Do you think there is something wrong with me that I’d rather make lists of things that have already happen than to make lists of things I think should happen? Like resolutions? I’ve never been much for resolutions, but I do think the new year is cause for introspection.
Right now, my goal for the future is to make it through this horrible, horrible cold spell. I’ve never been so cold for so long in all my life. My heart is slowly turning to ice and stone. I’m sick of it. My ferns are dying (or dead, depending on who you talk to), my knuckles are dry and chapped, and I’m all out of warm socks. I live in Georgia for a damn good reason, and it’s not to have the temperatures hang out in the 20s for weeks at a time. Briscoe says she is sick of it too. She wants to go swimming and get her hair cut.
the thin line between optimism and delusion... 
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