(no subject)
2 drinks plus, i disregard my self-imposed precept that impartiality remains the best policy in my dealings with certain people [meaning: drunk jen tells everyone, everything].
my apartment smells of bong water due to my knocking over jaime's bong last night.
my ass hurts because i repeatedly fell on it.
my face hurts for some unknown reason.
regret overwhelms me.
and, to make matters even worse, i have zero cigarettes.
so what am i attempting to relate? just that i feel crappy and i wanted to write about it. i haven't any solutions to my "drunk honesty" but i do cognate the implication: i censor myself all too often. meaning i am an incomplete version of myself because i don't allow myself the freedom to just exist. constantly i worry about what i say, what i do, how i say it, how often i call, whether or not i should answer, blah blah fucking blah.
sorry for the complaining, i'm just really sick of rumination.
anyway. life, for the most part, is good. certain aspects might alter that perception at certain times, the overall feeling is that i am okay. sure i have $10 and no food but at least i have fucking fun being poor and starving.
i have to register. i missed my appointment with my advisor. it's pretty dire because i dont know what i'm supposed to take and i dont have my code to register. so basically i will get really, really shitty classes and reprimanded by my advisor. oh well.
at least bonus is still alive and well. at least i own jurassic park. at least i'm going to go to linden soon and get some cigarettes.
i'm fine, he's fine, she's fine, we are all fine. [the tripod]
there has to be a better version of me. one that doesnt consistantly wake up alone.
my mom is leaving new jersey tonight. so my alleged home isnt new jersey anymore. it is back to being south carolina.
my apartment smells of bong water due to my knocking over jaime's bong last night.
my ass hurts because i repeatedly fell on it.
my face hurts for some unknown reason.
regret overwhelms me.
and, to make matters even worse, i have zero cigarettes.
so what am i attempting to relate? just that i feel crappy and i wanted to write about it. i haven't any solutions to my "drunk honesty" but i do cognate the implication: i censor myself all too often. meaning i am an incomplete version of myself because i don't allow myself the freedom to just exist. constantly i worry about what i say, what i do, how i say it, how often i call, whether or not i should answer, blah blah fucking blah.
sorry for the complaining, i'm just really sick of rumination.
anyway. life, for the most part, is good. certain aspects might alter that perception at certain times, the overall feeling is that i am okay. sure i have $10 and no food but at least i have fucking fun being poor and starving.
i have to register. i missed my appointment with my advisor. it's pretty dire because i dont know what i'm supposed to take and i dont have my code to register. so basically i will get really, really shitty classes and reprimanded by my advisor. oh well.
at least bonus is still alive and well. at least i own jurassic park. at least i'm going to go to linden soon and get some cigarettes.
i'm fine, he's fine, she's fine, we are all fine. [the tripod]
there has to be a better version of me. one that doesnt consistantly wake up alone.
my mom is leaving new jersey tonight. so my alleged home isnt new jersey anymore. it is back to being south carolina.