I LOVE MY FATHER. SO MUCH.
This is something I do not say nearly often enough.
he is BUILDING me a lightbox. Oh yes. And I thought he only did computers.
Talked to sister the youngest for a VERY long time today. She is mad at her choir director and the injustice of the world, which is apparantly conspiring against her.
BUT, on the 26th of October, I shall go home to see the Lance Bass movie on opening day! Now, NONE of you is permitted to call me pathetic, but I am way excited. I shall also go and get my tooth fairy outfit for Hallowe'en. And I shall dye ALL of my hair green for the holiday and make Meg-ringlets. Yes yes.
I MISS TOBY! And I want us to be roommates and eat tomato salad once a week and pasta every day and I want to wash the dishes and clean the bathroom and listen to bizarre music and be. For at least a year. And I will waitress and we will barely pay the rent but I will go out and buy socks with my tips and we will make sock puppets and be.
That Uncle Cracker song is playing. I have this overwhelming desire to choreograph that song whenever I hear it. But then the song ends and I don't think about it anymore.
This may seem random, but i think some of you will really understand. Sometimes I am really grateful that I am able to pee.
Took a five-hour nap today. In the middle, scary men appeared outside my window and took off the screen and talked loudly and painted. So not only was I awakened from my healing sleep, BUT there are paint fumes in my room. My mom says I should go study somewhere else.
I should.
I LOVE my Smith little sister. We talked about all sorts of things today. Like ice hockey.
Where has my peace gone? I had it, it was so strong, my peace, my grace, my faith filled me up and my cup runneth over...and somehow, the well has dried, there is but a drop of wine left in the goblet. And I am still thirsty.
Today my sister "diagnosed" me with clinical depression. I should not have been so surprised.
I do not want to be capable.
I want my problems to overwhelm me.
So there is nothing I can do.
But sleep.
Evidently most people don't think this way.
The problem is, now, the solution.
Because I don't want to not want to be capable.
I want to desire to be good.
To do good.
So:
Counselor?
Confession? Daily? Weekly?
Lightbox?
Prozac? (blech, I don't want that)
Suicide? (this is ill-advised)
Dropping out of school? (also ill-advised)
Move to California where winter is not?
Je ne sais pas.
But for now, now I must eat Ramen and do laundry. I am wearing my barely-present undergarments.
he is BUILDING me a lightbox. Oh yes. And I thought he only did computers.
Talked to sister the youngest for a VERY long time today. She is mad at her choir director and the injustice of the world, which is apparantly conspiring against her.
BUT, on the 26th of October, I shall go home to see the Lance Bass movie on opening day! Now, NONE of you is permitted to call me pathetic, but I am way excited. I shall also go and get my tooth fairy outfit for Hallowe'en. And I shall dye ALL of my hair green for the holiday and make Meg-ringlets. Yes yes.
I MISS TOBY! And I want us to be roommates and eat tomato salad once a week and pasta every day and I want to wash the dishes and clean the bathroom and listen to bizarre music and be. For at least a year. And I will waitress and we will barely pay the rent but I will go out and buy socks with my tips and we will make sock puppets and be.
That Uncle Cracker song is playing. I have this overwhelming desire to choreograph that song whenever I hear it. But then the song ends and I don't think about it anymore.
This may seem random, but i think some of you will really understand. Sometimes I am really grateful that I am able to pee.
Took a five-hour nap today. In the middle, scary men appeared outside my window and took off the screen and talked loudly and painted. So not only was I awakened from my healing sleep, BUT there are paint fumes in my room. My mom says I should go study somewhere else.
I should.
I LOVE my Smith little sister. We talked about all sorts of things today. Like ice hockey.
Where has my peace gone? I had it, it was so strong, my peace, my grace, my faith filled me up and my cup runneth over...and somehow, the well has dried, there is but a drop of wine left in the goblet. And I am still thirsty.
Today my sister "diagnosed" me with clinical depression. I should not have been so surprised.
I do not want to be capable.
I want my problems to overwhelm me.
So there is nothing I can do.
But sleep.
Evidently most people don't think this way.
The problem is, now, the solution.
Because I don't want to not want to be capable.
I want to desire to be good.
To do good.
So:
Counselor?
Confession? Daily? Weekly?
Lightbox?
Prozac? (blech, I don't want that)
Suicide? (this is ill-advised)
Dropping out of school? (also ill-advised)
Move to California where winter is not?
Je ne sais pas.
But for now, now I must eat Ramen and do laundry. I am wearing my barely-present undergarments.