August 22, 2002 :: 8:46 p.m.
*hyperventilates*
My uncle just left, and so I'd like to take a moment to THANK GOD and weep, overcome with joy. I seriously dislike that man, more than I probably should. Blah.
In other news, all of my food is disappearing. My fake plastic cheese food slices and my hotdog (soydog) buns, most notably. I don't know where they've gone off too, considering that I've been gone all week and no one at all has been here for the past two days. Freakish. And very annoying, as I want a damn soydog, but I have no buns. Grr.
So. I should be all packing and stuff, but I'm not. Because I'm just starting to feel this paralyzing fear in my gut. It's not so fun, as you may well imagine. I still have shopping to do, packing to do (though I shant complain, because it's my own fault this stuff isn't done), everything to do... and I have roughly 36 hours to do it. Subtract 16 hours for sleep (tonight and tomorrow night), and I'm down to 20. 20 hours to get it all together. And being the Procrastination Queen that I am, we can safely assume that 10 or so of those hours will be spent fretting over things and not actually getting much done.
Ahem. *cries*
I'm not feeling so... chirpy? I don't know. It just came to mind. I've been rather excited, I suppose... not so much in a good way as in an "Oh my god, this is such a huge change, oh my god, oh my god," kind of way. Am I making sense? No? I didn't think so. How to explain it... hmm. Though it really doesn't matter, when you get down to it. Saturday is fast approaching, and excitement has been replaced with cold fear and dread. And anxiety. And the desire to curl up in a ball and cry and hide and do bad things to myself. And I don't mean that in any sort of sexual way, perverts. It's foul and I don't want to be all afraid about this. I can't even imagine how I'm going to be tomorrow night.
I'd wager a bit less stressed out if I'd get off my ass and pack some things, eh? Most likely. But mind-numbing terror isn't really the best ass-kicker. It's like in horror movies. The random chicks are always too scared to think rationally and get out of the house, or out of the woods, or out of the fucking abandoned car wash - wherever.
Mer. Adam's supposed to call me tonight, and I hope it's soon. Because I need me some warm, safe reassurance, and I need it really freaking NOW.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005