Confessions, musings, and sordid details of a Generation Y redhead.

Living on my own this last week has been quite an adventure. I know, I know. It’s only a week. But it’s amazing the difference a week can make. My mom and I are getting along like civil human beings for the first time in ages. I’m finding that yeah, I can do it myself. My kitchen is spotless, my clothes are clean. My animals get fed, my bed might not get made, but it’s still sleep-inable. I can’t believe it’s only been a week. It feels like ages. I’ve spent a good part of almost every day so far with Nick. In fact, the only day I didn’t see him at all was the day we left for San Francisco. But I talked to him for most of the day. And I might not see him today, but seeing as he knows when I work and that I had no plans, I don’t think it’s likely. It’s just really nice. Doesn’t everyone say so? But it is. Not that this is particularly important on a surface level, but my friends (my roommate, no less) love him and totally 100% approve. And on that note, he doesn’t mind hanging out with my friends or me hanging out with his friends. Of course, it’s not any more or less awkward when it’s just us. It’s really nice. And he’s absolutely adorable. He finds excuses to touch me at work, but not in a sleazy way at all. It’s stuff like ruffling my hair when I take off my visor or letting his hand linger a little bit when we both work the pour station. And saying goodbye takes hours. He’s such a sweetheart. I’m so glad I (god, I sicken myself) found him.
I promise, I’ll find something more cynical to talk about next post. I hate how mushy I sound. Is this how happy people sound when they think? Ugh, shoot me! I sound like a teenage romance novel. However, I still am a teenager. I suppose I get leave to be a little childish.
The ironic part is while I sound so incredibly sappy in these posts, it’s not sappy at all. A lot of our time is spent engrossed in really deep conversation or really random talks about what we do and don’t like about a particular subject. Or stargazing. In the most cliché sense, we stargaze. We find constellations, make up our own, and point them out to each other. But I love it.
Anyway, now that I’ve gushed for too long, Happy Independence Day! Just remember, this is the celebration of the day we declared independence from Britain and tyranny, not the day we achieved it. Not sure if we have yet, come to think of it. Anyway, food for thought.