I write from Ogilvie from my Mom's lap top I'm hoping to snatch when I leave. My good old lappy's keys are falling out and it makes it really hard to type, even though there has been much going on to share these days.
I played hookie from work today. I really can't afford to, not this close to the end with volunteer hours to make up, but after a solid 9 hours of sleep, my alarm went off at 5:45am, I shirked against the sound of the bitter wind blowing at my windows, thought of what 10 hours out in that would do to me, and said, "Oh hell no."
My dad picked me up and we came home for Thanksgiving early.
Now I'm here, safe and warm in the darkness, when I would have just now been finishing my day outside in the dark, and hoping against the odds to make the train by six fifteen. Ha.
Two weeks left of the Corps, then full time at the Barnes and Noble Cafe.
I have great aspirations for winter time. We'll see if I follow through.
If I don't, it means it must not really be what my heart truly wants. It seems that that's the advice I receive consistently. "Well Lily, what feels right?" I hate that... I just want answers.
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