I have been in a completely shitty mood since Tuesday. Irrationally, uselessly, angrily down. Just--BAH! Coupled with that is the edgy conviction that everyone hates me. Everyone from the boy (who would have no reason to hate me, and assures me that he does not) to John Doe in my interview today (who was totally cool and funny) to old friends who are shite at returning phone calls.
For someone who likes spending time alone as much as I do, I worry an awful lot whether people like me. I will assume that I call too much if people do not call me, and stop calling entirely. I will be pouty about the fact that I called the boy today and he was like "Oh, I was going to call you in a little bit." This is a problem I've had for ages. People have told me "Look, I'm shitty at calling people, just call me." I even had a friend thank me for continuing to call her when she was holed up in her apartment shooting up and avoiding all her friends. Yet I still take an unreturned phone call or an unreceived phone call terribly personally.
Yeah, I know. There are shrinks out there who could analyze this problem. Right now I'm stressing so much about the next step in my life once summer's over that I am making myself completely crazy, and once again, trying not to sabotage a guy that seems very cool--if he is TERRIBLY busy. Incidentally, the problem with someone who brings you flowers and mix CDs from the very start is that when they don't do that you start to feel taken for granted even though he's done nothing to indicate that.
I need to take more Vitamin C, I think. Maybe if I kill the sickness my mental state will improve. I think a large chunk of general malaise is from my parents lately. My dad is having anxiety issues because he thinks he'll never be able to afford to retire--this a guy who owns his own $300,000/year business and a beautiful house, a wife he still loves and two smart, educated daughters--isn't that supposed to be the American Dream? And my mother just had shoulder replacement surgery and needs it on her other shoulder, so she whines all the time about how much pain she's in. So basically, I feel like I should just shoot myself now and save all the trouble of getting older. Fuck.
Ahhhh, morbidness. So much fun.
For someone who likes spending time alone as much as I do, I worry an awful lot whether people like me. I will assume that I call too much if people do not call me, and stop calling entirely. I will be pouty about the fact that I called the boy today and he was like "Oh, I was going to call you in a little bit." This is a problem I've had for ages. People have told me "Look, I'm shitty at calling people, just call me." I even had a friend thank me for continuing to call her when she was holed up in her apartment shooting up and avoiding all her friends. Yet I still take an unreturned phone call or an unreceived phone call terribly personally.
Yeah, I know. There are shrinks out there who could analyze this problem. Right now I'm stressing so much about the next step in my life once summer's over that I am making myself completely crazy, and once again, trying not to sabotage a guy that seems very cool--if he is TERRIBLY busy. Incidentally, the problem with someone who brings you flowers and mix CDs from the very start is that when they don't do that you start to feel taken for granted even though he's done nothing to indicate that.
I need to take more Vitamin C, I think. Maybe if I kill the sickness my mental state will improve. I think a large chunk of general malaise is from my parents lately. My dad is having anxiety issues because he thinks he'll never be able to afford to retire--this a guy who owns his own $300,000/year business and a beautiful house, a wife he still loves and two smart, educated daughters--isn't that supposed to be the American Dream? And my mother just had shoulder replacement surgery and needs it on her other shoulder, so she whines all the time about how much pain she's in. So basically, I feel like I should just shoot myself now and save all the trouble of getting older. Fuck.
Ahhhh, morbidness. So much fun.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
Mix cds rock. I love making them for anyone and everyone. It excites me to no end.
And the American Dream is a crock o' shit. big ol' pan o' poop . . .
[Edited on May 27, 2005 7:58PM]