How you saved the universe from dying...
literati555, *hugs*
I called a nutritionist/dietist/whatever and got shot down because: "We don't have ambulatory service! It's not possible to visit you yet!" Fine! Then I'll be here, getting rid of the last of my extra weight by myself. I would've loved to have some help, because these final ten kilos are going to be hell to lose, but fine! Also, what kind of hospital denies you the possibility of running ambulatory service?
I think I solved my problems with the university's administration office. I THINK. I'm going to check my e-mail again and follow their instructions to the last letter, even if it kills me.
I did something I promised myself I'd do, be honest with Francesca. Well, as honest as one could get over text messaging, meaning crucial details were left out and we gauged only one side of the various problems we've accumulated during the past year. The last text message went: "You're an idiot. There are no silences or wrong moments between us. The time we spend together is important. Just try talking to me instead of others."
So I guess it's time I be honest with myself.
I feel like I'm hanging on for all the wrong reasons, which have everything to do with my abysmal self-esteem and my fear of being alone. I feel like hanging on, doesn't matter for which kind of reason, is just tying me down to a past version of me that doesn't really exist anymore. I feel like hanging on is just going to hurt me more.
And saying "I miss you" ain't cutting it. Because the missing on my part has been going on for months. FUCKING months, and I haven't been able to say a word. How I shoulder all the problems; try finding solutions; trying my best not to be a burden, clingy, whiny, obnoxious.
...
Ok, all in all?
This is majorly fucked up.
I'm going to go revise for that horrid international and communitarian law exam (yes, still the same. I've had so many false starts I lost count) and then go swimming. And stop thinking about all this, because, really, what good is it gonna do?
Pardon all the swearing. I'm just...urgh!
(Also? Dean Winchester knows anti-angel blood mojo! Which confirms my theory that it's not just angel blood that works the mojo, but blood in general. I gotta stop saying blood. BLOOOOOOOOOOOOD. Ahem.)
I called a nutritionist/dietist/whatever and got shot down because: "We don't have ambulatory service! It's not possible to visit you yet!" Fine! Then I'll be here, getting rid of the last of my extra weight by myself. I would've loved to have some help, because these final ten kilos are going to be hell to lose, but fine! Also, what kind of hospital denies you the possibility of running ambulatory service?
I think I solved my problems with the university's administration office. I THINK. I'm going to check my e-mail again and follow their instructions to the last letter, even if it kills me.
I did something I promised myself I'd do, be honest with Francesca. Well, as honest as one could get over text messaging, meaning crucial details were left out and we gauged only one side of the various problems we've accumulated during the past year. The last text message went: "You're an idiot. There are no silences or wrong moments between us. The time we spend together is important. Just try talking to me instead of others."
So I guess it's time I be honest with myself.
I feel like I'm hanging on for all the wrong reasons, which have everything to do with my abysmal self-esteem and my fear of being alone. I feel like hanging on, doesn't matter for which kind of reason, is just tying me down to a past version of me that doesn't really exist anymore. I feel like hanging on is just going to hurt me more.
And saying "I miss you" ain't cutting it. Because the missing on my part has been going on for months. FUCKING months, and I haven't been able to say a word. How I shoulder all the problems; try finding solutions; trying my best not to be a burden, clingy, whiny, obnoxious.
...
Ok, all in all?
This is majorly fucked up.
I'm going to go revise for that horrid international and communitarian law exam (yes, still the same. I've had so many false starts I lost count) and then go swimming. And stop thinking about all this, because, really, what good is it gonna do?
Pardon all the swearing. I'm just...urgh!
(Also? Dean Winchester knows anti-angel blood mojo! Which confirms my theory that it's not just angel blood that works the mojo, but blood in general. I gotta stop saying blood. BLOOOOOOOOOOOOD. Ahem.)