Counting down the days

Who can remember thinking...

By this time next week, I'll be back in school

By this time next week, I'll be out of school

By this time next week, I'll have graduated college

By this time next week, we'll be on vacation

By this time next week, I'll be driving my new car

By this time next week, we'll be married

By this time next week, we'll be in our 1st apartment

By this time next week, I'll have started my new job

By this time next week, the baby will be here

By this time next week, life will never be the same 

By this time next week.......

This week in what we aren't talking about

This is a tree, but we aren't talking about it.

No, I am not in denial,& when I say I have very little idea what is going in on, it is the truth.

I am the one in charge of what we are not talking about, & while I am reassured everyday by the pieces of fancy paper on my walls, saying I am one smart cookie, I don't feel like it.

Why we aren't talking about, what we aren't talking about:

We have been trying for a very long time to not talk about things, & would hate to invite bad energy into things now.

So we aren't talking about it.

We can, however, talk about this window all-the-live-long-day.

If you were hoping to be invited over to gaze longingly at my stained glass, you are just going to have to give up that dream.

Also, our address will not now, or ever, include the words, 'Wank Avenue'. Because there was a serious possibility it might.