:sigh:

I wish I would write more, without inhibition. I miss going through sweater pockets and finding tattered tidbits of what would be good writing once combined with whatever other mental babble I managed to scribble down over the course of the day. 


Instead, I turn out my pockets and scramble to find the millions of numbers I need to call to make sure that my gap insurance claim was taken care of, or my hospital bill got sent to the right address this time. 


Boy, is it it exhausting growing up.