i always dream the same thing over and over

When Tom goes away I turn feral, pile dirty dishes in the sink until the kitchen looks like the site of an archaeological excavation and leave a bread-crumb trail of discarded work clothes in the hall. I watch a lot of Greek. I plop two runny eggs over some Knorr rice sides (butter and herb flavor!), call it dinner, and eat it in five minutes while looking at Tumblr.

I don’t love what this says about me, but it’s true.

I make plans. I go to the movies. I come home to New York and try three different restaurants (Mexican, Italian, French) with three different members of my family, and while this probably doesn’t help with my sodium intake it certainly helps with my mood. I nap. I watch Life as We Know It with my sister’s roommate, pass judgement on Katie Heigl, and eat a fancy cupcake decorated to look like a Hostess. On the bus I work on a project I thought was long-dead but which, I have recently discovered, is not. Said project makes it necessary to listen to a lot of Maroon 5 and I accidentally waste several hours contemplating the ratio of skeevy grossness to sex appeal that is Adam Levine. Survey says: two to one.

I listen to tunes in the morning. I snuggle our temporary cat.  I wake up in the dark in the center of the mattress, like an island in the middle of the sea.