Okay, seriously, I've gotta start layin' off the Starbucks, yo. I am in wicked paranoia-central lately. I don't know what my deal is, but I so need to chill.
Remember when I said that
I thought I was bein' watched? Well, now, I feel like I'm being followed. Somethin' is seriously up, but... I dunno. I can't run to
B or
Robin every time I get a wiggins. I'm a big girl. I've been on my own. I can take care of myself. This is no big deal. I've just gotta get over myself, ya know? Maybe it's just that we're livin' on another
Hellmouth again... that's gotta be it.
Jesus, Faith, get a fuckin' grip.
Right, so, I'm out. Some of the mini-Slayers have been watchin' old episodes of
Oz and I'm just not down with that. Three years was enough time inside for me to not be cool with watchin' a TV show about what it was like... I remember. I don't need a fuckin' sitcom for that.
Later. Gotta slay...
Gotta go find my cool...