October 31, 2002
B-Sides
Happy Halloween, all. I think I am getting a cold. Either that, or I am just feeling lethargic and sniffly for no reason other than the usual.
You know, I work really hard. Maybe it doesn't seem like it. I don't really want to whine, or to gratiate myself, but I just really feel like crap. I feel overworked and stressed out and guilty. I had to lie to my Spanish teacher this afternoon and I feel really bad about it. I missed her class yesterday because I was asleep in my boyfriend's bed. But I needed that. He keeps me sane. And sometimes, I really do find myself on the brink of screaming and pulling out my hair. At one moment I know exactly the path that I am taking, and the next thing I know the stones have turned invisible and I am staring into this abyss, this semblance of something I thought was my life. What is my life? Sometimes I don't know. What am I supposed to do with the time that has been given to me? Sometimes I don't know. Are my silly dreams a waste? Sometimes I don't know. Is this silly reality a waste? Sometimes I don't know.
Sometimes I need to stay with him. Sometimes I need to sleep in. Sometimes I need to miss work. Sometimes I need to do poorly on a test. Sometimes I need to bullshit an essay. Sometimes I need to forget to do my reading. Sometimes I need to eat too much candy.
I'm a person.
I'm not perfect.
And that's okay, that's okay. Why do I feel the need to justify everything to myself? Why does everything have a purpose and an outcome and a consequence and a crying-about?
Each action is not the last action. It is not even close. The little things in my life are not the be-all and end-all. The big things are not the be-all and end-all. I am here to be happy, and to be good. I don't need to occupy every moment. I don't need to be true to all of these obligations, at least not all the time. I can be responsible without being dead to the world.
I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. I'm really tired. I think I need a vacation.
Or a to-do list.
Jill's List from the Fourth Realm of Hell
Talk to Robert about Jessica as soon as possible. She shouldn't be allowed to talk to you the way she does, not only from a humanist perspective but also from the standpoint that you are her fucking boss.
Stop feeling guilty about leaving work early last Saturday. There's only so much you can take, okay?
Stop feeling guilty about missing class on Wednesday. There's only so much you can take, okay?
Stop feeling like shit. There's only so much I can take, okay?
I hate lists. I never follow them. I mostly just look at them and feel depressed about them.
Why do I feel this way? Why? Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I cheer myself up? It's not like I actually have anything to be depressed about.
I want to be a grown-up. I want to move out. I want my own little place so I can stay over at his. I want so many things that I never wanted and the things I used to want aren't what they seemed. All of this is so hard and I am so tired and I've gotten plenty of rest but it never goes away, none of this ever goes away. It just keeps coming and I keep taking it in and wondering and wondering and wondering and never coming to any conclusions. I don't know if there are even any to be found. I don't know anymore. I don't know anything anymore.
astera at 6:44 p.m.