Lo siento mis amigos.

I often make unattainable goals for myself, such as owning my own business by the time I was 18, having a hairless cat by the time I got my own place, and writing a blog a day. But as life goes on, we humans can only pick up, reevaluate, and create new goals. Today I sit and tell you that I do not accept my failure, but I embrace the change in my destination. 30 blogs in September, just perhaps not one every day.

Give or take a half decade.

I've decided very recently that I will no longer volunteer my age to anyone I meet. I cant say I am more mature or less mature than most other 19 year olds, but I do know that people are often shocked when I tell them I was born in the nineties. When people know how old or young you are, they build up certain expectations for you. You are most susceptible to falling short of those expectations if you chose to disclose your age. Im tired of it, so until from here on out I do not disclose my age. I will do my best not to outright lie about it, but I will remain as mysterious as possible as long as possible until I make myself a social outcast.

Then I'll take up fibbing.

Mapaché.

Between being on call for 6 hours today and working for nine, my commitment to blogging everyday of the month has nearly failed. It is in the last few moments of September 1st that I, Rachel J. Floyd, am too exhausted to offer any reader any morsel of entertainment, humor, or truth in my writing this evening. Tomorrow is a new day.

I will celebrate on the 31st day.

The last day of August was a gray one in Chehalis, Washington. Tomorrow begins a new month in a still relatively new city, and while I am in the midst of moving into my new apartment and starting two nearly full time jobs, I am committing to blogging everyday of September.

So watch out internet! Here goes another empty promise!

Move along.

I've decided its time for me to pack things up again and move out. I want to say I feel completely torn about it because I do, but the emotion attached to the situation is unlike what I think logic dictates. Im terribly excited to move back to Olympia because I love the city and everything about it. There is no where I would rather live to finish out being 19.

Moving home to Kingsburg to do an independent contract has been a blessing and a curse. I've been here since March, and living with my parents has not only helped me save money, but also allowed me a sense of security. Hometowns give people a sense of contentedness. They grow accustomed to it; the comfort of knowing everyone, knowing where everything is and where they stand in the grand scheme of the town's outlying borders. I am very happy here. I love my parents as people and as good conversationalists. I love the people I surround myself with here, drinking coffee till all hours of the night at the one diner thats open. I have a job I love to hate and hate to love, and a cute boyfriend who lives across town.

In conjuntion to all of that, I have a tiny voice hissing in my ear. I recognize it as my own, the younger version of me that warns me about the disease I've been fighting all my life. A cancer so devious that it leaches into your veins and kills you slowly. It gnaws ravenously at your soul, injuring it beyond repair before you have time to plan your course of action. I will not succumb to complacency.