update.

I miss writing.  I've hit one of those spells where my words sound hollow.  It's not so much as writer's block, because I hardly feel as though I ever suffer from that since I am forced to write daily for my job, but it's more of an emotion block.  My words feel empty.  They lack heart.  It's probably because I'm happy, and when I'm happy, I'm more likely to live and less likely to write about living.

Anyhow.  I have an obsessive personality.  I obsess over things for a small period of time, until I get what I want.  I'm fairly sure this trait of mine has enabled me to be "successful," because I can't stop thinking about things until I have them, until they're mine mine mine.  Right now, I'm obsessing over buying a house.  I was thinking about how much I like our one-bedroom apartment, especially since we spent the weekend cleaning and organizing it, but still, I want a large space that I can actually decorate without concern that I'll have to change everything back to white later on. 

Daniel says people have to save for yearssssss for a house and that I'm crazy for wanting one so soon.  He says I need to adjust my expectations and prepare for a lengthy wait.  I tell him he doesn't know me at all.