I think if I didn't have school or family, I would sleep most of the day, stay perpetually drunk, and do nothing but listen to music and write. I'd finally have the time to write book after book of horrible angst which I keep insisting qualifies as poetry. If I even stayed alive long enough. I had a conversation with my boss the other week about how she thought, minus family and school, I would still find something constructive to do with my time, because I'm just 'that sort of person.' This woman obviously doesn't know me at all. Not that I plan on doing anything to deprive myself of family or school. But I know me. I am, at my core, an alcoholic sloth.
This is the first year I've started in awhile that wasn't tinged with just a smidgen of optimism. I think that's because all my heroes and suddenly dying. Life is letting me know NO ONE IS SAFE. YOU ARE NOT SAFE. I CAN TAKE AWAY EVERYONE YOU LOVE, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF. Bowie, though. That was like a punch in the gut. Really, though, it was just him and Alan Rickman dying within days of each other. They were the top two in my list of Older Men I'm in Love With. I'm afraid to list the others for fear of jinxing them.
Also new: I got an Amazon Echo recently. So now my house is always either full of badass music or my family screaming "ALEXA STOP" over and over.