17:48pm Thursday

I get home, slide my heavy bags off my burdened shoulders, plug the kettle and make myself a strong cup of the best coffee I have (Ricoffy unfortunately). I own a Dunhill that I’d bought on my way home (I know) but I sit, pretend it’s a toy as I drench myself to 'tears dry on their own' by Amy Winehouse –resurrecting the dead to sing and influence me, music being after all that one element that’s said to influence you without you being conscious of it. It’s special being me, quite a trip I should mention. I’m not a smoker just so you know, so if I’m really going to put my R2 to use I will have to do it where the guys won’t see me which is downstairs, out the gate around the corner at the bus stop terminals where I could easily be mistaken for a hobo…energy I don’t have mind you. Heart ache and stress; I’ve just diagnosed myself to put you in the clear. The college work and that boy, I swear I could kill them both without even batting an eyelid. I have to suck it in and push though no matter how hard it is, it’s life and it doesn’t come easy; I seemingly know how to motivate as I pull these stunts on myself whenever I fall in a rut but it’s turning that noun into a verb that lacks. So much for talking the talk and yet not walking the walk. Pull out my ELLE instead and help myself to the gloss, she won’t piss me off; only take me to a world I want to be in where I am the fashion editor and the fashion director. Thinking that alone just paints a smile on my face and I am back in mood. Better mood. Tomorrow is a new day and according to last week’s verse I am not to worry about tomorrow but pray in thanksgiving. Quite a trip I should mention…being me that is.