Mimicry

I’m inspired to write a bit.  I feel neglectful.

I’m counting the days until I can get some insurance.  I need to see a doctor about various things, and at the very least I’ll be going a month without my Nuvarings.  The joys of condoms remind me of high school.  It wouldn’t hurt to try to get that damn HPV shot and probably inquire about various girly problems.

Boyfriend and I have been talking, talking, talking.  It might be boring to some, but it eases my nerves.  Planning the future, talking about our new apartment.  Moving in together.  Scary, exciting.  Fingers crossed.

I’m looking forward to it, especially since we agreed that I could get a bird.  It sucks that the boy is allergic to fur, but I’m getting really excited about getting something like a Sun Conure.  I just need a thumbless companion in my life.

Saving money is impossible, but I’m not anxious about it.  The bills are paid, and I have enough to fuel my silly hobbies.  What more can you ask for at our age?

I’m growing up, and I don’t know how to feel about it.  I get excited about paying bills, I feel rewarded when I finish doing the laundry, and I think about buying the boy expensive work slacks for Christmas.  No more nacho binges, late-night coffee at IHOP, or worrying about if my outfit follows school dress code.  My interests seem increasingly mundane, but I’m comfortable with that.  I look further ahead, plan more, and keep lists even if they don’t get done.

Damn, I really want a bird.  I Google Image search them at work, and write lists about how much it will cost to keep.  If I do get a parrot, then I’ll have breached the two "expensive" pet areas that I never EVER thought I’d touch, the other being the saltwater reef tank.

I still pine for cats, though.