Blurred until morning comes...

A week since it happened, hard to remember, impossible to forget. And why would she want to? it's possibly the most daring, out of character thing she'd ever done, and she wouldn't change anything. To say she was proud of herself might be slightly over-shooting; but, alright...she's a little proud of herself. And that's all she has to say about that. except for:
"Don't forget me"
"I wont"
"Promise..."
"Promise."
"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"
...a tear...oops.

Sitting, relaxing on a Friday night after a hellishly long week, deadlines upon deadlines upon production day upon deadlines. Feature, Newswriting, Urbane article, practicum placement, extra shifts at work, Yoga, 5am mornings, extra hot showers followed by extra cold water to wake her up, green tea, chai latte's, four hours production, interviews, gym...standing in the middle of the whirlwind and not knowing what she's going to do next year. She's never had so much direction and drive with such little motivation to get there. She's caught in her own paradox and loving every minute.