Never blog at late times. Never.

It's mother effing 3 A.M.

I'm home. Like home home. Not the home that I say I'm going to every night when I'm at the place of college.

I'm at the home where I've had the same Beatles poster hanging on my door since 4th grade. The same four giant pieces of paper, taped together. (I should go into detail about that late, but as I once said before, it's mother effing 3 A.M.)

I miss my school home. I really do. It's weird! It's nice to be home home though. I went with some old school neighborhood friends, then surprised my friend at the airport! I dunno. It was fun.

Hokay. Remember my post from yesterday? The one that was maybe a little sad, but also maybe a little confusing? Like you weren't sure what was happening but you kept reading because you were SOO very intrigued? Good! Well....

I'm in the Cache Valley Symphony. I know. I'm living large.
Anywho.

My conductor lost his wife about 4 weeks ago, on the night of one of our rehearsals  As a result, every rehearsal that we had he would start crying during the slow songs, because every one of them brought back memories he had with her. He would stop us and tell us stories. They were all so beautiful and poetic. My heart broke every time.

Did I ever mention I took a personality test and I am Expressive/Expressive.
Who knows what that means?
Not I!
Or you?
Or you?!
Wow. Nobody knows.

It's mother effing 3 A.M.
Well 3:08 now.

This has been the most pointless post.