Three Marlenas
I just got out of the shower, I have water in my ears, hideously dry skin, its 2:30, and I'm supposed to be in Fishers at 4. But, I'm writing in my livejournal. Wow, talk about time managment in action. I have to leave in about 20 minutes if I want to me in Fishers on time. This is not going to happen. Why am I stalling so much you ask? Well, if you must know, I don't really want to go. Its not that I don't want to actually be in Fishers, and its not that I don't want to do what I'm going there to do, its that I don't actually want to go through the process of going to Fishers, i.e. the drive there. Its nasty gross outside, and my heater busted a fuse the other night. So, no warmy for Becca-loo. Not to mention that I'll have to drive back at 1:30 in the morning. You see, I'm going to a Colt's game that doesn't start until 8:30 P.M. Hence, it won't be over until 12:30, and I won't get back to my car parked at my sister's house until 1:30 and then yeah, not back to Muncie until 2:30. My father is going to try to talk me into staying the night in Fishers, but I refuse. I hate staying at Debbie's house. There are babies everywhere and I'd have to sleep on a leather couch which is disgusting, not to mention that its out in the middle of their gargantuan living room with two story ceilings which scares the shit out of me at night. There are just way too many places for people to jump out. I need small rooms, low ceilings, mosquito nets, locks on my doors. I can't sleep unless I feel safe. But, of course my father would think that's insane, so I have to tell him that I have somewhere to be in Muncie and then he tries to talk me out of it or make some new schedule. I get so frustrated. I'm a fucking adult, just let me go home. Yeah, I know, its kind of an oxymoron that I throw temper tantrums about being an adult so I can go home because I'm afraid of the boogiemonster in my sister's living room. But yeah, I'm gonna go get ready now. Peace.