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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

In my head.

Where has my head been lately? Swimming in caffiene late at night and keeping me up way past my bedtime. Another sign that I am growing up, caffiene after 3PM affects my sleep and I have to monitor it. Sigh.

Another sign was when I went and asked my upstairs neighbors to please turn down the bass, as I have to work in the morning. I waited until 12:45 am, so I think that was fair.

I lie awake and think about marraige, mainly. Why? Because Ryan is getting married on Saturday. I struggle with it. I struggle with how far I am from marriage. I struggle with the thought that Spidey and I would have to shift around so much to join households with the unknown husband. At this point, I may not have a kitchen aid mixer, but I’ve got a few things.

And I lie awake and imagine my single guy friends apartments and how our lives would mesh if we got married. Just to see in my head, how our stuff would fit. I can’t imagine my books and photographs fitting anywhere else.

I also lie awake and wonder how many bad first dates I have in front of me. I lie awake and wonder if I really want kids. The day I knew I did was in Durango, at the hot springs. I was sitting on the steps in the medium hot pool. I was surrounded by twenty something couples with toddlers. Suddenly, for the first time, I wanted that.

But do I? Shrug. I haven’t really had to think about it.

Instead of thinking about it, I buy shoes and purses and get occasional manicures. This is the city after all.

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