Late Night Ramblings
It’s 1:30 am. I stayed up waiting for my grandmother to fall asleep so I could quietly slip away and smoke the cigarette i kept in my bag since 10:30 this evening after Paolo and I spent time with his family singing and trying to figure out what our epic duet song could be.
I’ve always enjoyed the late night stolen drag breaks I take for the reason that it makes me feel rebellious when it shouldn’t because everyone in my family practically knows that I do it. But I like it more because of the thoughts I have which may sometimes be euphoric like a “eureka!” moment or depressing and unapologetic.
I thought mostly about how much I need to organize my room. I need a shoe rack and a hanger or an extra cabinet for my over pilling clothes. I need a place to put my make up brushed and my art supplies. I need a sense of order in my life much in the sense that I need order with my thoughts.
Then I started thinking about that morning where I was so OC about cleaning my mouth. I accidentally stuck my toothbrush too deep into my mouth that I ended up puking all over my bathroom floor that has recently caused a clog. I don’t want to unclog it, that’s what the maid is for. But is she supposed to declutter the way I think and the weird thoughts that are all jumbled in my head?
I thought about the book I’m reading now and how pathetic I feel about reading my sister’s reading list. I’m reading Ely & Naomi’s No Kiss List by David Levithman. It’s the 3rd book of his I’m reading and I hate every one I read but I torture myself with visual vomit anyways. I don’t know why I do that to myself. There are a million books on MY list but I’m too lazy to actually download them. I’m a sloth. That’s not something I should be proud of. That or, I refuse to read anything worth reading until I get my Kindle. I. CANNOT. WAIT. FOR. CHRISTMAS!
Tonight, Paolo’s aunt-in-law asked us “when’s the big day?” Usually, I’d be so offended and hurt by the question. God knows why, it’s something we hear on a weekly/ monthly basis. It’s bad that I get so bummed about it because 1. Paolo made very good points about why we aren’t getting hitched anytime soon and 2. AM I REALLY READY TO GET MARRIED? Do I even know what it is to be married?
No. But the thoughts are never really horrible. Scary is more like it.
But tonight, I was pretty cool about being quick to debunk the idea of it. I’m not quite sure if I’m a part of the marrying generation anymore. Or maybe I’ve just decided to not really care about what I want. I mean, seriously, when do we (men particularly) decide that we want to get married? When do we wake up and say, hey, I’m gonna spend a bunch of money and put on a dress and then spend more money on a house, on kids and worry about big people problems? When do we actually realize that it’s not enough to love each other, let’s make the unbreakable vow and allow ourselves to be the one thing that could possibly break a person when we are all bound to screw up one way or another?
I’m wheezing now which probably shows my total carelessness for myself. I have a cough but hey, let’s smoke that cigarette anyways. As if I needed it. As if my life depended on it. What a shmuck.
It’s 2:00 am. For some reason, I am wide awake and I think I’ll think about my dog and her fleas, or guinea pigs and that pug I really want.
It’s 2:00 am. Maybe I’ll fall asleep with my thoughts that never have any conclusions. I am happy where I am right now. In this moment, my PMS could be worse, I could try to be more patient with everyone (especially my mother), I could use more money, I could gloat about my irrational fears of never getting married or having children… but maybe it’s meant to be tackled on on another night.
It’s Friday morning now and I’m suddenly thinking about Rebecca Black and how much I hate the fact that she made a song named “Saturday”. What a ninkumpoot. If I can even spell that word.
