So Good.

I am not exactly sure why procrastination feels so good. Fart monkies. I have so much work to do but I have abs. no desire to do anything. There is snow outside, its warm inside, there are movies on, the couch isn't breaking my spine, so why why would I ruin it by studying for my statistics final?

To Do:
Brownies
Studying (optioinal)



breeezy

Stronger

I am utterly exhausted. Easy as that. I had a very...long walk today from Hector street this morning. I started off angry, but walking is a good way to calm down and destress. The problem is, that once you stop walking it catches right up with you. I might have spread myself to thin. Maybe. But that isn't the issue, because I think what I do is good, and necessary and proactive. I like it. What I don't like is feeling like a burden on other people. At the moment im some where at the intersection of befuddled, annoyed, vunerable and Ahgubwah.
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I am just so tired of feeling in the wrong, apologizing ad nauseum, especially when I am being or at least trying to be as accomidating as possible. Its a rock and a hard place, because it feels like nothing is insurmountablely wrong while at the same time nothing is tangibly right.
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"See what i so much/ should never hurt so bad, never did this before/ thats what the virgin says/we've been generally warned/ thats what the surgeon said/god talk to me now this an emergency..."

Slick

Much About Nothing

It has come to my attention that I have a "blog problem", I'm a chronic blog starter..along with list maker, and head butter/ I am also a nonsense enthusiest. Anyway. I need these things to vent. So sue me. Here is my lastest addition cyberspace. A little less heavy than my other blog "the gravity of my situation"..my not so brief fore into the very very very melodramatic, but c'est la vie.. sometimes life make you feel like crap. At the moment I am in a good place..that might be becasue it is a Saturday and I have sucessfully evaded work for the entire day, even thought I am on the cusp of an absurdly stressfull week. It is what it is.


Ya C me