Mixed Emotions

I had started this entry last night as I had a good day, but things kinda changed right in the middle of the entry, I got frustrated and killed it. So we start over again. A nice little story of my day yesterday. It started of kinda funny, my diabetes decided to screw with me. I got really low and passed out. Only reason I came to again was some strange assed nightmare things, which got my adrenaline going. That managed to boost the blood sugars just enough to get me to a juice box.

Unfortunately, I missed my Math class for it. So we start the day with Inf2030.

At lunch, Peasantwench dropped by. Which was kick assed because I haven't seen her in quite some time. I miss her damnit. But while she was here, I proudly showed off my crappy art project, my stereotypical pot-head locker, and then I finally got over the need to be like a three year old giving their U student sister a tour of their elementary school.

I showed her my stairwell. Yeah, I know, big whoopy do. But it's actually really trippy. When you lay on your back on the floor, and put your legs on the wall, you can convince yourself that you're really sitting on the wall-gone-floor, and after you get used to that, you can flip it that you're laying on the ceiling, and that you could fall at any moment. No, I wasn't on anything, it's just one of those things you can do if you try hard enough, and discover if you have way too much time on your hands.

A lot of giggling pursued. Eventually a couple of my friends came by and asked what the hell we were doing, so I told them to try it. We then had four giggling people laying on the floor.

Cut to getting home, getting online and talking to people. Groovy. Until I start stressing over my math that I can't focus on long enough to study. I Start skitzing, have a nice little argument with Monkeypants, have a nice fight with my Father, get bitched out by my mother, have the sudden very strong urge to cut...have I missed anything? I don't think so. It wasn't a good night. Ah yes, I kept Monkeypants up all night from my stupid little spaz. Or was it that she doesn't trust me at all, and won't accept that small damage is better than big freaking gashes, so she shouldn't push it. Thank you Darque Angel, at least you understand that I can't just NOT do anything.

I really wish people wouldn't express their worry for me as anger. Yelling at me really doesn't help get me out of my depressed headspace.

I finally got everything back under control this morning at 8:25. My bus comes at 8:35. I managed to catch it. I thought it was pretty good. I really was meant for the Army...okay, I'll stop laughing now.

18.12.2001 - 09:21

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