right now

it used to be that i blogged when life was "too much." it was my creative outlet. lately life has been too much to even blog. and at the same time, i'm at a standstill. i struggle to pull myself out of bed every morning (though i'm sure the cold is mostly to blame). i smile and sell my foreignness, my english, my enthusiasm, my energy in return for laughs and hugs every day. i come home and bite my tongue while i futilely try to enjoy the right now. but time passes, almost unnoticed. in the end, what's another day?

thanksgiving was a surprising success. as i walked in the door, the host thanked me for everything i brought and verbally recognized that when i was the host last year, i did everything. that was all the validation i needed. the turkey turned out fabulous so obviously i feel ridiculous for getting so upset about it, in hindsight. plus, no one showed up terribly hungover and only Ro seemed to be somewhat out of spirit. he didn't lift a cooking finger and got a gourmet meal in return. i ignored his childishness.

i put up my christmas tree yesterday. mine because *i* bought it, *i* bought all the lights and ornaments and *i* put it up. lazy boy. he likes the result, but was not at all interested in helping. hmph. whatever, i was sick (classic cold this time around) and felt like shit, but i blasted some christmas amy grant, circa 1983, and think i might have even enjoyed it more than if i he *had* helped. it's perfect and lights up our living room so beautifully.

am still sick today, but managed a day at work (thankfully my saturdays are short) and all that's lingering is a horrible headache. is 8pm too early to go to bed?