Lacking in words.

I am not a dirty person, but I am messy. My apartment is decidedly NOT company ready at any given time. I'm a pack rat. My life, my shelves, my rooms are cluttered. And yet, despite this, I am something of a perfectionist.

I have started countless posts. I compose them in my head constantly, but I have finished none of them. They're not good enough, or the two things I want to talk about don't tie together well enough, but they're not random enough to be posted as tidbits. So I post nothing.

I mean, what right do I have to blog, anyway?

I don't have the words. I have a multitude of words to express my grief, my misery, my boredom. But to tell you of my happiness? To tell you how well everything is going? To tell you how much I love my job, my apartment, my boyfriend?

Apparently, I just don't have the words for that.