jamity

To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobeler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To die; to sleep; no more; And by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to – ‘tis consummation devoutly to be wish’d. To die; to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub. For in that sleep of death waht dreams may come – when we have shuffled off this mortal coil – must give us pause. There’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the opressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the pangs of disprized love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that dread of something after death, that undiscover’d country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to those we know not of? Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all, and this the native hue of resolution is sickled o’er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.

I was going to do this but the boyfriend doesn’t want me to. I figure that as long as he’s around, I’ll wait. I can always do it later and I can’t UNdo it, so it’s on my waiting list.

I went tattoo parlor shopping last week and decided on one. Jenny from Acid Works is going to do my tattoo. I made my appointment (thank goodness she can do it on my birthday!) and made my deposit. I have my design and everything ready. I’m nervous, but my boyfriend is going to go with me, so that should help.