My head is full of questions.

Questions which I will never ask.

I don't want the answers.

This is a completely idiotic stance of course. Particularly considering that the answers I make up on my own are far worse than the real ones could ever be.

One would think that being aware of a problem would make one more able to correct it.

The more aware of it I become, the more likely it is that I will run away and join the circus.

I imagine covered bridge lemonade to be the most delicious lemonade on the face of the earth.

I want some.

To drink it down. Savor each drop. I now crave it.

I might be one of only two people who have ever even heard about covered bridge lemonade.

I am special.

So there.

Worst.

Migraine.

Ever.

Ok, maybe not ever, ever... but worst that I can remember.

But no rest. Too much work to catch up on. And obligations tonight that must be met.

So after I will curl up into a ball and pray for death. Which won't come because I won't really mean it. It's just a migraine after all.

Every day is like the first day.

And every day makes me want more. More first days. More first touches. More firsts with you.

the migraines are back.

this just isn't my week.