it's a long road to wisdom, but it's a short one to being ignored

The perks of living alone:

- I don't have to tidy up when I don't feel like it. Although most of the time I can be more anal than Monica Geller.

- All the crying--from watching sad movies or crappy TV series, or from stupid arguments with boyfriend, or when I just feel like to--I can do without anyone here to judge me. Or pull a Tommy Page and give a shoulder to cry on, for that matter. So I lose some too.

- I can walk around this 3.5x4.5 casa indecently-clothed.


Life's good.

a crumb of comfort cookie

"Shit, I'm a nutcase, aren't I?" she said, while wiping the drying tears on her face. It was one of the melodramatic episodes on one of their many date nights.

"Pretty much, yeah," he shrugged.

"Do you think this will get worse? My demons?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

She let out a little genuine laugh, but at the same time she was afraid. It seemed far fetched--and she had been using these "demons" as an excuse for a while now--but what if she really was out of her mind, and what if she wasn't getting any better?

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. They could think about serious matters on another day.

"We can get a doctor or something to help me help you."

"Will you wait for me while they're putting me through therapies or whatever experiments that they do to nutcases?"

"Definitely. I'm not going anywhere."