I've been going a little nuts for some time now. Over days, weeks, months. I don't always feel like the me I am. I feel like a younger me. I turn around and get surprised that V's got so many more gray hairs.
I feel like painting my nails. Then I remember all the housework is going to ruin whatever I do as soon as I'm done.
Kuch to zaroor hai...
I find myself wearing my hair loose, skirts, teeny tops and hastily stuff them back into wardrobes. Because I'll be 26 in two months and I don't want to look like mutton dressed as lamb.
I hear myself speak in the old, slangy drawl I last spoke in Uni, cussing as affectionately as I was wont to. Using phrases like 'wont to'. About the only thing I'm not doing is writing poetry.
I check out men just because. I don't even feel like I'm out of the game -- even though I am.
I'm reaching the phase where I'd kill for a cigarette. Actually, I want a joint, but fags are more common. All around me people are smoking. V's never stopped. And I'm trying to act my age and tell myself that I've quit. But the girl I feel inside hasn't quit yet, na?
It's the second year itch, an Indian summer (already?) or my second, er, childhood. Gah!