quiet

It's Saturday afternoon, quiet. I'm sitting here eating carrots and dip and drinking Pepsi. I'm sitting here thinking about dinnerware and wanting to do crafts and write and move. I'm sitting here wanting to move not in 67 days but today. I want to move today and sit on my new furniture and eat in my new kitchen on new dinnerware. I want to put new things on the walls and think about how good life is. I want to sit in the quiet and write in one of the four rooms I will have the option of writing in. Four rooms. I want four rooms instead of these two. I want Five Guys Burgers and Fries, but they're so darn busy. I want more money to buy things, but I don't have the time or energy to work any more than I do. I want to make more envelopes and sew them. I want to hem up my new jeans so I can wear them. I want to lose fat so I can comfortably wear those new jeans. I want to rest and relax and not worry about getting things done--like grading and planning and writing papers. I want to be done writing this one last grad school paper so all I have left is writing my thesis. I want to write my thesis, which will be a book. I want this book to come together, fit together. I want to keep working on this book right now, but there's so much to do I can't decide what to do. I don't want any more carrots. I don't want any more ants in my kitchen. I don't want Monday to come. I don't want to think about moving--I want to move. That wasn't so quiet after all.