7:43 p.m. x 2004-01-14
day. i hate how my mood sours when i get home now. it didn't use to, when i had two blissful hours by myself before anyone came home, and then, usually only to stop in before taking someone somewhere else. today was better than i'm thinking it was now - thanks in large part to the fact that I SLEPT STRAIGHT THROUGH YESTERDAY. not during school, either. i walked home with clare, whose mother drove me home, and then went to exercise.
i exercise in my basememt, where the floor is cold and hard. you should not be doing this, if you exercise anywhere. ARRRGH.
so then i was drippy with sweat and dashed up to bathe, where amidst chapter four of middlesex, i konked out. for two hours. after waking up a wrinkled, convulsing PRUNE i proceeded with my lack-of-an-afternoon by gowing downstairs and talking to my mom. or at least, that had been the plan.
but i passed out on the couch. i take very hot baths, and i think this has to do with it. i'm not sure. either way i was there for another three and a half hours before a phone was thrown in my general direction and i retreated upstairs. where a question was asked aloud ("do i have any homework?") and an answer subsequently said fifteen minutes later ("no."). this was followed by a FANTASTICALLY UNDISTURBED eight hours of sleep. thirteen in all.
so of course today i was a walking cold virus BUT OH WELL. who cares? hilary duff has cankles. all is right with the world.(IMPORTANT NEWS FLASH:)
BETHANY INSPIRES ME WITH HER AWESOMELY AWESOMENESS!
but then...somewhere between crying over "man on the moon" and my art teacher polling the class on who knew who bob marley was, a sense of what can only be defined as bitterness infiltrated my demeanor.
i blame george bush, but only because it is very easy to do so. it really has nothing to do with that walloping douche.
i love being in therapy: a therapist's job is to LISTEN TO ME for an HOUR EVERY WEEK. that's like a dream come true. AND, i get to talk candidly. i don't have to pay attention to what i'm saying. thus, therapy always reminds me that i have rigid morals and opinions.
sometimes i can't stand that, but i know i'd hate myself if i didn't have them. to be an elastic doormat 100% of the time?!?! i'll stick to my 50%, thank you. it still, sometimes, doesn't make me kind of envy those who let their opinions fly unapologetically, stupid or not (and my morals and opinions take a defined, convulsive splash over the peculiar/crazy line)...
...which is actually a great reason to blame this all on dubya. HA! loser.
edit, two hours later: YESSSS!!!! now there is courtney (america's sweetheart) AND SCARLING. (sweet heart dealer) to look foreward to (of course now that i write it i sense a trend...but YESSSS!!!!) <3
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start