On hiding out in your pajamas

I slept really late this morning, which felt much-needed. I was exhausted after the whole thing yesterday, and while I felt bad for Hemingway when he was kinda quiet, I really needed this day to hang out alone and recharge some battery. He made me a massive breakfast before disappearing away, and while I kinda miss him, I know that it was important that I take the time to watch out for me too. I don't want to get messed up again, I've only started getting my shit together this summer.

Rice congee and pickled vegetables, the breakfast for your recharging needs.

I've been feeling sorry for myself in a pretty relaxing way today, feeling like life's throwing me lots of fun stuff at once, like headaches, period cramps and sore throats. Hey, at least I'm not pregnant, that's always something.


Sometimes you just need days you devote to sitting in your pajamas playing The Sims, you know? I mean, those little digital people aren't going to take care of themselves.

I hope Hemingway's not terribly lonely though. He was really sweet to me all day yesterday when I was upset too. I just wish things were clean-cut, that I knew where I wanted to go in life, what I wanted to do or even where I see myself in a year (or next week, or ever). I have no idea. He's been really open with his feelings and where he wants to go, and I just wish I knew, but it's like when you've been in an avalanche and you don't know which way is up, or which way to start digging.

On a not very related note, Pony and G came home from Pony's sister's wedding this weekend, and for some reason G's less than happy, especially with the realization that it's his cleaning week, so now he spent the time angrily ranting around the living room, throwing stuff around and grunting loudly so that it's completely impossible for the entire apartment to not be enveloped in collective misery. Pony's probably right in that it's better for him to feel angry and express himself than shut things inside, but I don't think it's fair to be crowded into a corner of the apartment by his outbursts and aggressive banging/throwing/vacuuming. Being expressive is one thing, being invasive is something completely different.