imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Balance? Balance?This has been an amazing week. I spent a gloriously sleep-free Sunday night/Monday morning working like hell to finish up some posters. These posters were for a whole big event that I was apparently pretty instrumental in planning. These posters represented the first part of the last stage of preparation. I spent Monday painfully but excitedly awake. Monday was all about things beginning to come together. I attended classes selectively. I firmed up plans for the next day. I almost literally passed out at about 9 pm, which I think of as redonculously early. Late night phone calls were only half-remembered later, and I'm sure I dreamt of the horrendously long list of things to accomplish the next day. Also, I let someone dick me around on a class assignment. I mean, I know I'm a complete pushover, but come on people. I don't owe this bitch anything. I don't like her. I don't want her to like me. Why did I let her screw me over? The simple answer: her solution allowed me to be lazier than my personal, more correct solution. Ah, Tuesday morning. Englilsh totally blew. It always totally does. Unless it's fake-Englilsh. Fake-Englilsh is completely rockin'. It was another day of selective class attendance. It was another night of not sleeping. This was a slightly less stressful being awake for someone else's sake night. Despite the previous night requiring less of my general effort, I felt like crap Wednesday morning. Wednesday was hell, to put things quite simply. There were up moments, and I was fairly pleasant most of the time, but the inner turmoil was definitely building to some unhealthy levels. It was the Day of Silence. It was also the Night of Noise. Night of Noise mostly involved an hour or two of preparatory drama, and then a couple hours of blissfully basking in the pleasant glow of a job well-done. Then I spent another night of fitful unconsciousness. The only problem with the every-other-day sleeping pattern during this hectic week is that I felt so subconsciously guilty for sleeping when I could be accomplishing things that I kept waking up and having mini panic attacks. It was a little less than cool. Thursday was deliciously lazy compared to the previous days. I went to all of my classes. I fulfilled my secretarial duties. I slept beautifully. Friday was virtually stress-free compared to previous days. I even had some manner of money with which to pay off the evil school. Evil school, stealing my money. And my soul. And the happy-go-lucky days of my youth. At least I thought Friday was stress-free. Then I was in a tiny, insignificant wreck in my car. I spent an afternoon in absolute misery. I pretty much held it all together on the scene. I did a minimum of literally crying on Pat's shoulder. Then I got in the car. I cried from the moment I got in the car to the moment I got out of it at the dorms. I got to my room, opened the door, closed it behind me, fell onto the floor, and sat there sobbing for half an hour. I ruined people's plans for the afternoon, including my own. I'm certain I just drove my parents' insurance premiums through the roof. I did something so remarkably stupid that I doubt I'll forgive myself for a long time. In other news, I saw Kill Bill Volume 2 today. It was awesome. Aside from that, I spent the day wrapped in a warm blur of Sports Night fan fiction. Honestly people, Dan and Casey make such a beautiful couple. Also, I have to say that overall, Dan is a much better person that Casey. Not that either is a real person. I should maybe spend a little less time considering the hypothetical relationships of fictitious characters. But where's the fun in that? I currently have a delightful summer planned. It mostly revolves around the 13 HOURS of classes I'll be taking. It's summer people. This shouldn't be required of me. I'm emotionally delicate. I need my breaks and vacations. I'm practically inconsolable. All that gets me through my days is the thought of sweet Ben Folds in a few short weeks. That and my inappropriate friend leaving his clothes in my car and strenuously objecting to my suicide, or death in general. And the "fixing Megan's fucked up back" appointment next Friday. Those are all very good things to live for. I suppose life is actually quite good right now. For every night I spent frantically working, I spent a night in an unconscious stupor. For every minute I spent worrying the world was about to collapse, I enjoyed a moment of perfect clarity in which everything fell together just right. And for every week I spend devoting myself to something exciting and fun and worthwhile, I'll have a car wreck to throw things off. But then again, I decided just a minute ago that everything is ok. All I need is a perfect friend, a hot piano-playing dream boy, and someone to rub away all my worries on a payment-deferred basis. I suppose that's enough balance for me. I'm happy when things work out my way. 12:15 p.m. - April 25, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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