sunglasses.

 if i could be anyone today, i think i would go back to being someone very much like holly golightly. today, i feel like the first part. the girl on the farm with the doctor, except this is no farm and ian is no old man veterinarian. it is just raining and the ducks are swimming across the pond to get to our backyard, where they will spend the next few hours eating and bathing and talking. and i am not speaking in terms of a few ducks, more like 30+ ducks, all eating and bathing and talking and sometimes warring, which i find to be very funny. 

maybe if i could be anyone today i would be shelly johnson. no matter what parts of me would prefer to be like laura palmer or audrey horne, brass taxes, i am most like the waitress beauty queen. though ian is no murdering, rough and tumble truck driver, i am currently living in a house that is under construction. and i am in ian's bathrobe, drinking coffee, which seems like all shelly ever wore aside from the turquoise uniform. but my walls are not plastic, though, the sprawling back windows in the sun room still have no curtains. ian swears that no one can see into the main house, but i find this to be untrue because when i walk dante on the other side of the pond, on the golf course, i can see into the living room perfectly clear. and i know what i am usually wearing when i am sitting there studying, which is not this bathrobe, which is why i am wearing this bathrobe today.

my bones hurt and i feel like i crawled out of quicksand to wake up this morning. i fall into bed at midnight and wake up at 4a or 5a if i am lucky, if there is less i should do. last night i had the strangest dreams about living on a boat and there were a tremendous lot of colors and i had a tremendous lot of sunglasses. i think my dreams are telling me i need to become one of those ridiculously wealthy people that buys resort wear and spans the winter on the other side of the globe. for sure. or maybe i just need new sunglasses.