working all weekend every weekend is going to be the death of me.
especially going to bed at four thirty and having to be up at eight thirty. my body hates me.
exhausted but i only have today and tomorrow left. monday is time and a half so i'm not complaining.
i woke up to the sun shining and the smell after the rain, had a solid eight hours or more of sleep. good start to the day.
i'm trying to keep a positive mind but every day its hard not to think of how it would be different if you stepped and became the father that you should be. it's been probably almost three or four months now and you haven't budged. i will not falter and apologize for the mistakes you made.
anyways, so over drama. including getting showered by beers by crazy jealous bi polar guys who act like they bleed once a month. people need to use their heads once in awhile they'd be surprised of what miracles could happen. i'm stoked on you and i hope this won't make things difficult because i would never wish for that.
my gut has a good feeling and no girl can ever get enough butterflies.
one step at a time, one foot in front of the other
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