So definitely feeling some moments of abject panic.
How is it that I—a risk averse, overly anxious, picky eater that prefers to be alone—actually going to survive living in strange people's houses for long periods of time?
How is my 1998 Subaru Outback with 299,000 miles going to survive a year or two on the road?
Are people actually just going to give me money so I can write?
Am I going to be able to find work in the meantime?
Have I gone insane?
I think the answer to that last one is yes.
And I love it.
I who have never risked anything, am about to risk everything.
I have never felt sexier in my life.
6:26 p.m. - 2017-12-15
Recent entries:
Moving Out - 2017-12-31
A Pretty Good Christmas - 2017-12-26
Getting Ready - 2017-12-22
My Monday Night - 2017-12-18
What the Fuck Am I Thinking? - 2017-12-15
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