Just Misty

Four weeks since I last wrote. Explanation?! I don't have a life right now. It's spent in my car driving to and from work, working for 9 hours and repeating. I get home and go straight to bed, get up and do it all over again.  A phrase I am over using lately: curve balls are being thrown at me left and right. In seven days I have to be out of my house, and need to move to LA. Do I have a place to live? Nope. Adventure? Maybe. Panic? Yes. Scared shitless?! For sure. But I'll survive. For some weird weird ass reason my life always falls into place. I don't know how I have managed to not get seriously ill, die in a car wreck due to anger or falling asleep at the wheel. Whatever this is that I'm doing is giving me serious perspective, forcing me to be a big girl and to deal with it. Guess what, every single person is going through shit. So my sob story is not anything different from anyone else's. But of course I feel super alone, stressed and panicked. I have some