Much too much

Sometimes I wish I was a cat. Or more specifically, sometimes I wish I was MY cat. Right now, she is curled up in a little ball beside my computer, purring happily away simply because I'm home. That's seriously all it takes to make her happy. Every now and then I stroke her head and she responds by making cute little chriping sounds. It is so cute it makes me want to vomit.

I wish that simple things could make me as happy. Instead, I am mired by always wanting more. By thinking about what could be. By analyzing and evaluating EVERYTHING until my head feels like it's going to explode. I think too much. I worry too much. I wear my heart on my sleeve too much. I let people walk all over me too much. Too much!

I recently got a hair cut that changed my look drastically. If only a personality change could be as easily ordered, purchased, and implemented.

Am I reading too much into the way you touch me?
When you brush by, it's much too much
Am I reading too much into nothing?

Am I reading too much into the things you do?
And do they mean the same to you?
Am I reading too much into nothing?

Am I thinking too hard about the things you say?
A glance can last me one whole day
- John Wesley Harding