i’ve always considered myself to be a very flexible person, but the older i get, the more i realize what i thought to be flexibility was really just a desire to make those around me happy.
“Are you comfortable?”
- Oh, yeah. I’m fine. (Except for the fact that my knees are up to my forehead because i’m sitting in between 2 people with my feet on the hump in your 2 door neon.)
That’s just how i work. i care more about the way others around me feel, even if it means i’m losing circulation in my legs.
But lately, i can’t hide my uncomfortability. (i realize that’s not a word. but it fits too well not to use.)
the packing & unpacking seem to never end.
i can’t wait to settle.
to unpack all my boxes.
to have a drawer/bin/place for everything to go.
won’t it be nice.