Everyone is watching T.V.

Yay, today my first textbook arrived, and it was my Anatomy text book, which is the class I'm most worried about. I just spent the last two hours reading through the first chapter and taking notes. School does not start until the 23rd, but I want to make sure I'm more prepared than usual since I'm taking on a course load of 14 units plus the part-time job.

Today is the second day of the boyfriend's week-long vacation to go visit his dad. I have to say, I don't miss him as much as I thought I would. Probably hasn't been long enough.

I forgot how much I enjoy solitude. There's something very satisfying in having no one to announce to, and to do as you will, whenever you will, as loud as you will.

Of course today, yesterday and the day before were all spent cleaning and organizing the apartment. We were still in the "just moved in" stage, and I've spent this time to find a place for everything after fixing the bookshelves to the walls so that--FINALLY--we were able to put up the books, DVD's, and video games that have been floating around the living room in piles and boxes for the last month. The place actually looks like a place now, all right and proper. It's a very nice feeling.

I'm beginning to feel the writing tingle again. I haven't really been feeling it for the last full year. Something about having a life interferes with ones dreams and ambitions. I mean, I'm very proud of myself for still going to school and actually getting off my feet after all the horrible things that have gone awry in my life, but I can't help feel that I've lost touch with what I really want this last year.

However, I'll allow myself a year off, so to speak, if that's what is required. This was a very hectic year, though not at all unpleasant... for the most part. Just a lot of moving around and changes in scenery, what with the boyfriend and all. Tuesday we celebrated our one year, looked at each other, and both said, "How is it that we've only known each other this long and we're living together??"

*shrug* I guess things happen. Not altogether mysteriously, but they happen.

I am getting a little bored of the "normal" stuff though. I prefer bitching about having writers block and not sure what color hair to make a character rather than bitching about AT&T and roommates. It all seems so dull when I look back at all the "problems" I was having compared to what I was actually doing. I do have an immense satisfaction and pleasure with just sitting down and pounding out on the keyboard, despite how distracted I'll get, and that there are "issues" within writing, and all that.

I forget--until I feel the writing urge again--how much it feels like the real me. That all this other stuff is a farce simply so that I can live a semi-decent life outside of my true calling. But I'm not sure... I am young, and I feel as though my maturity level is (unfortunately?) catching up with my age.

Sometimes I doubt my convictions. When I feel the swell and the need to write as I am now, though, I doubt nothing at all. It's as though a lens has been put in front of my eyes that lets me see clearer than ever before, and my senses become hyper-aware of smell, sound, feeling. I get loads of goose bumps.

Hrm. We'll see, won't we? If I succeed, I succeed, and perhaps people will hear about me outside of my immediate life and this little blog (with its cricket audience). Maybe, perhaps, maybe.

--Teigra--