3.13.13

I just read a local blog of a young wife, simple yet passionate. In some ways I got inspired to finally get to my senses of playing with words again. No more lame excuses. It doesn’t seem hard after all.

I’ve been always hesitant to start uttering whatever I feel since I’ve been always preoccupied with the things I want to do. Ridiculously wishing to do everything  at the same time. Just merely thinking and choosing which to do first, I end up sluggishly coiling and teasing my son instead. It’s my favorite thing to do anyway.

This could have been a précis of the most significant moments in certain extent I can possibly think of but eventually I get bored trying to recall the moments worth remembering and anxious of being constantly horribly forgetful.

And that is the main reason I now rush and more dire serious into blogging regardless the hustle bustle. Hopefully I can save everything before I get Alzheimer’s disease.

unlocking the unlucky?

Anyway, I tried to assess what this date would mean to the latest worries I got. Last night I finally slept well believing everything would be okay after getting that confirmation from the painter about the portraits. Alas, it wasn’t solved - work spices! I never felt this awful. After all I still don’t believe 13 ain’t a good number. For me, this is a good sign for my transformation. A great hurtful lesson learned. And I have to be firm disciplining myself now. Instead of hating this day, I should embrace this happened so I can bear in mind that I have to change. Now.