February 27, 2002 :: 5:21 p.m.
but it seems just destined to crash
I think I've been inhabited by the soul of a woman who died PMSing and thus never stopped. In fact, I think she possessed me at birth. It's the only explanation I can think of for my emotional fuckage. And I mean, I don't get very PMSy when I should, so it makes sense. I don't get it before my period because I
fucking have it all the time anyway. Rraarr. I do not like this. Not one bit. I'm fine and then all of a sudden I'm just crying about... about what? About nothing. About some little, insignificant thing. About some words, spoken jokingly, that I take seriously. About something that's none of my concern, none of my business; something that I shouldn't care about, but that I do. Why? Oh, the answer is simple:
Because I am possessed by the spirit of a woman on the rag.
Grr. *sigh* I'm such a basket case.
I'm hanging out with Amanda tonight, probably sleeping over and things. We're going to read teen magazines that try too hard, watch the Grammys, and eat things that aren't good for us. I'm very much looking forward to it, because I think being stuck in this house makes me crazy.
I finished the FAFSA this afternoon, and submitted it. The reality of all this is quickly becoming too concrete, and it's frightening. Like a smoldering cigarette ash that catches fire to the drapes before you have a chance to realize that it fell.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005