It’s probably best I don’t say much. Its part frustration, part disappointment, with a smidgen off irritation thrown in just for good measure. And confusion. I’m confused. Mixed signals aren’t better than no signal at all.
Yeah. Frustrated.
It’s probably best I don’t say much. Its part frustration, part disappointment, with a smidgen off irritation thrown in just for good measure. And confusion. I’m confused. Mixed signals aren’t better than no signal at all.
Yeah. Frustrated.
And I didn’t even get kissed.
“I’m your Prince Charming”
(she thought to her self: But what if I kiss you and you turn into a frog?)
I have a right to be irritated when it’s justified and well earned. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone if I don’t want to. And I don’t. I just want to be irritated, let it run it’s course, and move on.
I don’t want to be mis-read or mis-led. I strive for transparency in they things I do and the ways I behave. I expect that from others and am often disappointed when it’s not reciprocated.
I’m probably too demanding. Too uptight. Too analytical. Definately too sensitive.
I’m a woman. Not a game.
Maybe it’s too much to expect a full, drawn out, well planned (and edited) post more than once a week. Maybe I ‘m just rusty about writing anything at all at this point. Outta sight, outta mind. Yep. That’s what it’s come to. Things continue to be busy and hectic for our family but that’s become such commonplace for us that I can no longer use that as an excuse. Just like I plan time each day for things like cooking dinner, packing my gym bag, showering…(kinda wish I was kidding about that) – certainly I can plan a few minutes to write something.
This would be what I spent my few minutes writing today.
You’re welcome.