Well, the time has come for the ten day countdown to leaving my twenties behind. I've been doing a lot of thinking about my twenties lately and I've come to the conclusion that I spent the first half of them being a fuckup and not caring, and the last half being a fuckup and trying not to be. Only this past year have my eyes opened a bit to the real world around me and that it's sort of getting to be time to at least pretend to act like a grown up even if I don't want to.
Today was beautiful day number six thousand, and I read my book and I wrote for a few minutes (and it was shit, but we won't talk about that) and played with my amazing puppy who actually went and scratched on the door to go outside tonight at Erica's house. If only he can start doing that at Greg's house. He seems to think that Greg's dining room and living room are his personal toilets and it's embarassing as hell. But Gatsby and I worked very hard on potty training this week and I think he might almost sort of maybe have it close to down.