little weed.

Bleep bloop blop. It's a gray day. A gray sky, and a gray state of mind. I woke up late again. I'm mentally not in control of my body in the morning. It moves ever so slightly, and maybe, if I force it, it will get up and put on clothes and not take a shower for the third day in a row. I really should take a shower... I'm holed up in my office, and I don't have to look presentable, so I don't. My toe nail polish on one foot is chipped off, I forgot my lunch, and I have to go to UPS. Blegh. I hate going to UPS. All it is, is expensive, and it's so gray out I just want to stay in.

I keep thinking about moving. I'm always thinking about moving. I never feel content where I am. I mean...maybe it's because I live in one room. Literally, one room. Singular. No other rooms. I get up in the morning and stumble to my kitchen which is five feet away from my bed. And it's been so hot I can't open the windows, so a mild claustrophobia is setting it. And there are weeds in the yard. I don't have a green thumb, there is no "dirt" in my blood. I have a tannin-colored thumb that kills all things but weeds. I like the weeds, but my landlady-ish neighbor hates them. Now SHE has a green thumb. She landscapes and makes things beautiful and doesn't understand why I don't tend to my yard. It's there I see it. It needs watering, yes. But the rain will come and do that someday. And it did for the past three days, so I'm off the hook, kinda. And the weeds love the rain.

Maybe I am a weed.