Living the Dream, Well, Sort Of

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I’ve lived a very sheltered life because of my disability. You know how dads are. Very protective of their little girls. Because of this, while I was in college, I had always lived with my grandmother (who was pretty much my mother since my biological one was M.I.A.). Well, if you’ve read a earlier post I had written on my departure from graduate school, you’d know that was no longer the case.

I imagine my sheltered lifestyle was the reason for some of my more favorite reading choices. I really enjoy books where teenagers went off on their own and had adventures in parties, dating, and drugs. (Though I would not really dabble much with the last. But I got a taste of what it’s like by dating someone who did.) Or biographies of my favorite musicians who had to struggle at one point with different jobs and homes.

One of them that comes to mind is the Kurt Cobain biography I own, Heavier than Heaven. I always wished that I can go off on my own like him and struggle a bit to find my place. Of course, I think jobs were easier to come by then, as I am still looking. However, I am turning in an application tomorrow that looks promising.

I’m still living in someone else’s house (my fiance’s parents’), but they do offer a lot more freedom and less stress. But it is still an adventure by being able to come and go as I please. They even throw quite a lot of shindigs themselves.

So, I can honestly say that I am kind of living the dream of finding my way on my own. Though, my need to feel productive makes me crave a job, Therefore, I hope I get hired soon, so this depression will disappear.

Though there is a bit of trouble in paradise with my fiance and I. I find myself missing the very man I mentioned in this post. I heard through the grapevine that he had been asking about me. He was my first love and my first dabble with more experienced activities…

Really, the confession of something like this is grounds for a separation for most. But my fiance certainly does love me, as he will do anything do work this out. Even as far as saying that he has me and my ex doesn’t. So, as long as he has me, it doesn’t matter if I pine. It really makes me feel like a bitch.

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