pudding

tonight we are not going to talk about what i am thinking. there is much on my mind this night and it will be a small wonder if i sleep at all. an occupied mind often leads to lack of sleep, sadly. i open tomorrow, 4:45 am wake up call here i come. the best you can do at that time of the morning is to look nice and not be pissed off. and so we feed into the illusion that waitresses don't have bad days and always love to present food to the not-good-tip giving masses. although every once and a while you will get a great tip on a day when you feel you are not doing your best and that little miracle almost levels the playing field when it comes to bad tips. i finally got my yellow cake and chocolate frosting, i am now waiting for the cake to cool down enough so i can frost it and consume it. the soda drought has ended, there is soda in the fridge, good bye headaches. i started to pick up my stuff around the apartment today, that way i would forget anything when i moved, the key word here is started. and that is where the thing we are not talking about tonight came into play. maybe tomorrow. at least i have cake, cake never fails you in any way. unless you burn it, but then that is your fault and not its fault. so, yes, cake can never fail you. you can fail cake. its awful how attached i am to food. ruled by my cravings. i don't know what to do, thinking only leads me in never ending circles, drat. it's easy to forget. i just want to live my life, to make plans that are fairly concrete, to go to school, to not have to worry about money, to be myself all the time and be accepted, to be everything and nothing all at once. i am what i said i would never be, great. and i wish i wasn't so dependant on having someone there. i ruin shit. i don't have finger nails anymore, i peeled them all off at work the other day, for no good reason. can't have anything good, i swear. i guess i shouldn't be happy, i seem to thrive in a state of unhappiness so well. fucked up, naturally. not compelled. in the apartment we are thinking about getting i can't have any pets at all. not even a rodent, so sad. i guess they are worried it will get out and tear up stuff. doesn't make sense to me, but okay. i had the perfect name for a mouse too. oh well. thinking makes my brain hurt. so i must consult with someone else, they think of shit i don't. i have a bad habit of glazing over shit that really gets to me like its no big deal and then exploding later. bad move. self-help books be damned all to hell. but you look at other people and think they've got it all and have shit all figured out, but they don't, not any more than you. and if they do, then good for them, at least that is what you should say, but you don't. a pox on them is the common response. i set myself up for failure, swear to god. so much for my public persona. bisou bisou bisou.