Tis true, folks. My lips are more chapped than a hermit living in Antarctica. (Do hermits live in Anarctica? Does ANYTHING live in Antarctica?)
Oh, dehydration and winter. What a potent combination you are.
I saw something today that said, “Are you living or are you existing?” or something to that effect. Of course I knew I was just existing and that I must start living soon.
But it’s hard when you don’t feel like you have a place. I discussed this with someone today, and that’s what I came up with. I don’t have a place. Sure my apartment is mine, but I don’t have a place – literal or figurative – in which I rest. My brain is always going, searching, seeking. Waiting for some expectation to be met. Coming up with goals I might not meet. Etc. Etc. (P.S. It’s totally exhausting.)
I’m sure one day I’ll find it, whatever it is.
Until then, I shall be content with my chap-ped lips, and Napoleon Dynamite quotes. Here’s more: “I see you’re drinking 1%. Is that ’cause you think you’re fat?”
Now off to have some Diet Coke.
Have a good night, everyone.