My four year old daughter is having a tonsillectomy at 9:15 tomorrow morning. I cannot sleep. All I can think about is her on the operating table with her mouth wide open and a doctor sticking scalpels down her throat. Not fun, not fun at all, I don’t recommend it.
I know I post a lot of old, tired music. But if you notice, most of my posts happen at night. At night, all I can handle is the same boring, beautiful songs that I’ve listened to a thousand times before. They still manage to stir up a visceral reaction in me, and I always hope that they’ll do the same for you.
I should stop posting text posts. They are always this boring and full of information no one cares about besides myself. Though I have found that one of the most useful parts of keeping a blog is that I can look back over the years with almost frightening clarity.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it was like to be pregnant at 21 years old. It was hard and painful and confusing and overwhelming all at the same time, but given the chance to do it all over again… well, I suspect you know the rest.