i'm only nineteen and i have no time.

that's not to say that i'd rather spend time by myself than with mark. it's just that sometimes i just wish he'd shut up and go do his own thing for a little bit so i can just have a little time to myself. i'm extremely thankful our schedules allow me some time to myself in the afternoons, or i would go insane. sometimes, doesn't everyone just need to be alone?

so he's gone for a few hours and i sit crosslegged at the computer, typing these words. dear friends, you should be the first to know that i am happy. not as in the mood i'm in now, which is more pensive than happy, but in a more general, pervasive sense of the word.

at the core of myself, i am at peace, for what seems to be the longest period of time in my life.

i should say here that i am envious of anyone who can follow zen buddhism. this is for the simple reason that i am a champion worrier, bred from world class worriers. my mother is a worrier. my grandmother is a worrier. most likely her mother was a worrier. for all practical intents and purposes, i am a gigantic spaz-out waiting to happen. and then there's these people who are zen buddhists. and it just boggles my mind how calm they are, or seem to be. and i wish i was calmer, like that.

lately i've been calmer, though. not zen-buddhist-style calm, but calm. content. peaceful.

also, i am extremely lazy, as evidenced by the wreckage that is my apartment. oye. it's not so much in the way of good. let's face it, i'm not what one would call a "neat-freak." more like what my mother calls a "pack-rat", a condition which can be seen clearly in my immense dislike for throwing anything, valuable or not, away. i most likely still have random math papers from the sixth grade somewhere in the apartment.

i'm ranting. well, not really ranting, as the word ranting connotes a more angered tone.

sign off for today.