I'm...so...tired...

I'm so tired. I mean the kind of tired where you ache and everything seems funny and sad at the same time. 

All the days have blurred together... 

During this overnight double feature I managed to watch all of After Earth which was good but nothing worth getting fired up about. I'll admit I watched it for the sole purpose of watching Will Smith who I've had a solid crush on for a decade and his adorable, although freakishly thin son added to the movie. He looks like a malnourished mini Will Smith and is actually a pretty convincing actor. I do have to say Mr. Smith had it easy for this particular film. He basically say the whole time and the very most his character demanded of him was acting drugged due to space age pain killers. I loathe his wife and daughter (her stupid song about whipping her hair back and forth caused a paint massacre in my 4 year old preschool classroom that I'll never forgive!) so I tripple checked to make sure neither of them were in the movie. His wife is just so on obnoxious for having so very few accomplishments in her flash in the pan career. 

I also caught up on my inmate correspondence. For sending over a dozen different letters and to have only received 3 responses back (one of which was so poorly written I just couldn't bare to continue the penpalship...) is a bit baffling but the two I write to are very attractive and interesting. They're so thankful that someone wrote to them. One of the inmates I'm writing to's first letter made me cry. He said he hadn't heard his name called at mailcall in 3 years because he family gave up on him. 

Neither one has disclosed what ended them up in prison yet but they're in medium security prisons so it's unlikely they Mansoned anyone. 

People are always shocked I send letters to inmates. I guess because they committed a crime and got caught they're suppose to not exsist but I think most of us would be lying if we said we hadn't done something illegal and had the good fortune to not get caught. 

One hour to go and I get 4 hours of sleep to get up and go back to work. Does it bother me? No. I've never been much of a sleeper but it sure does mess with your time and day awareness. If Miley Cyrus' album hadn't come out yesterday I wouldn't have known today is Wednesday.

Today after my four hours of sleep I work 2-10 then get to go home and get a good night's sleep and I think I'll reward myself with a little vodka and coke. 

Absence

I've been up since three and need to be up for work at seven to work until 2pm to go back to work at 8 pm to work to 8am to come home and go to bed until 1pm and then go back to work from 2pm to 10pm. ...when people say they're working like a whore...I don't think a whore has to work that long or do half as much as I do. 

We finally heard back and we got the house in Mechanicville. I'm beyond excited. I'm ready to leave Clifton Park behind and embrace a true new beginning in an actual neighborhood. 

I've been designing my rooms (yes rooms, I have the entire second floor to myself complete with balcony) since we first saw the house and I have a wonderful artpiece in mind. I won't give it away though in case it doesn't pan out. 

Yesterday we went shopping for the new house. It was fun but equally exhausting to packing. 

I found shelves that I think will hold my entire vinyl collection so I can actually get to them. 

I got a new DVD/VHS player since mine bit the dust (still resisting bluray) and a new tv. My old one will go in my entertainment room.

Found these fabulously gay bathroom accessories and a pink fuzzy toilet seat cover and matching bathroom rug and some art. 

I tried, once again to actually speak to my niece considering the entire fued has taken place online to no avail. It just has to be let go. I so badly want to share the joy of the new house and have her come over but I can't get through. But when I think back to when I was her age I wasn't easily forgiving either. I truly hope this will come to pass and things will go back to the way they were. 

An inmate wrote to me out of the blue. Apparently his cell mate suggested he write to me but I don't know which of the inmates I'm writing to is his cell mate.

His letter had an approach I hadn't encountered yet. After the usual introductions and pleasantries he directed me to his Facebook so I could see what he looked like.

I did and was completely and totally blown away. This man is gorgeous. He hinted at the possibility of wanting more than a penpal but can one truly love someone or get to know someone well enough through letters? 

I wrote him back, happening upon some Johnny Cash stamps at the post office which I found to be a cute pun. 

We shall see if he writes back. 

No I'm not dilussional. I'm not going to go drive to his prison and have a wedding. I'm just lonley and when you're as lonley as I am because so many have turned their back on you conversing with people in a similar but clearlydifferently shaped boat doesn't make it seem so bad. Lord knows I've done my fair share of things in my past that easily could have gotten me arrested.

Well I'm off to start a day that won't end for two.