Ahh sunday. Sunday is a good day too. Sunday, in a lot of ways, is almost better than friday. Because on sunday I really don’t have to do anything.
However, on Sunday, I also begin to feel the dread of what I am not doing. My homework, my messy apartment, just getting things done in general. I have found, with my busy schedule, that I do not want to make time to do the things that I need to do.
No, I am going to take this back, because in all reality it is more my laziness that leads to me not doing the things I need to do. Like cleaning for instance. I am absolutely horrid at cleaning. I hate to do it, I am no good at it, and normally just let it all build up until I can’t stand it any more and spend an hour or so just making it presentable to myself again. I know that this is no good way to live. However, I live all by myself and no one has to see or deal with it besides me and Bun and Cuppy. And they don’t seem to care much. I am not disgusting by any means, just lacking in the cleaning department a bit.
So today is sunday, its about 130 and I have still yet to accomplish anything but eat half a loaf of garlic bread (oops). I have a list of should be doings but all I really want to be doing is wishing the few hours away that remain between now and when I see Meemo. I am getting my bracelet that she made me for christmas fixed finally. It broke again due to the beads being too sharp and it has been too cold to make new ones (she made little glass beads to put on it). So my new beads are made and today is the day I get to get my bracelet back.
I love the bracelet she made me, its a charm bracelet, with three hearts to signify that my heart was born under her heart and in my mothers heart. I loved it, and I am really sentimental so it almost feels like carrying a little piece of love around with me. I felt a little bare without it, and am excited to get it back.
I am still almost nervous about seeing her. I have this little butterfly that refuses to give up fluttering in my stomach every time I know I am going to see her. I guess its my inner fear that I am just going to f%#@ something up. This little butterfly normally goes away as soon as I walk in her door, but regardless, its still there beforehand. I often wonder how long, and if ever, its going to take for that to go away. I hate being such a weird personality.
Our relationship is just weird, some days I don’t know how to figure her out. Sometimes I think she is like this strong brick wall that nothing can shake, and others I see that she has her issues, same as me. Someone should write a book on what to do with all the mixed and scary feeling you have when you reunite with your bio parents. I suppose that would be impossible because there are so many different stories, so many different people and so many different situations. Its just so weird, and I suppose difficult for anyone who has never been through an adoption to understand.