focus...

My semester has not gone as planned.

Granted, never has a semester ever gone exactly as I imagined it would go (which has usually been for the best). All of the surprises I've had so far have been completely off my radar. 

Like the fact that I missed an application deadline for the graduate school that I wanted to go to the most -- and then, when I asked, the admissions office said it would be fine to submit one late. Definitely not expecting to miss such an important due date, and never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I'd be allowed to apply after said due date.

Or the fact that I'm once again in a complicated relationship friendship/strange state-of-being-with-another-person-who-you're-not-actually-with-relationship. And that's great. I actually really like the way things are right now (most of the time).

Or the fact that I'm that-person-who-is-stuck-with-an-apartment-contract. Still. After three months.

Or the fact that, hey! I'm having surgery this week! I all ready missed one week of school last week because I couldn't leave my house (I did get out of bed every morning and get dressed for school -- I never made it past the top of the stairs though, because my body wouldn't let me). After being dragged again to a doctor's office -- last month by a friend, this month by my parents -- the doctor and parents decided that surgery needs to happen and it needs to happen now.

Never mind the exams and papers I have to do. Because apparently those no longer matter. It's fine.

Or the fact that my coworkers are doing well enough at their jobs that I'm no longer needed so much. It's to the point where I'm going to learn how to properly process a collection, starting from the very beginning. I'm so excited. I've been so terrified that no one else would pick up on the job, because it truly is complicated and incredibly detailed. But they're getting it -- which means less stress for me.

My life (like everyone's) is a total mixed-bag. Lately I've been freaking out about everything: my grades and missing school, getting my homework done, this surgery, the pain in general, relationships, family stuff, money, you name it. I'm freaking out. At the same time, things aren't as bad as they could be. I'm really good at the game It Could Be Worse. I'm just hoping that things will be okay. I'm scared to death about surgery. And I'm scared to death about the aftermath (what if they don't find anything?!).

But, I can't control certain things. Like graduate school acceptance -- can't control that. So I'm trying not to worry about it. I'm trying to focus on the other things I can control. Like going to bed on time -- very important part of focus.

c'est la vie...

In the spirit of hell midterms week, I turned to my French roots and remembered the phrase, "C'est la vie." Yep -- that's life.

And then I played worked my other job for a little bit and came up with this:

Pretty good, oiu?

Yeah. I get paid to play with blocks and then write step-by-step guides for how to make the structures. It's definitely my favorite part of being an advertising blog writer...thing (I actually don't know what my job title is).

Pray that I don't die this week. As in I'm only slightly joking.

why I hate food...

Few things make me happier than cooking good food or going out somewhere nice to eat with friends. However, once I have to actually eat the food, I'm not so happy.

Food makes me feel sick.

No matter what it is, I end up feeling nauseous after I eat. Drinking juices and water isn't as bad, but food and heavier drinks (like milk) leave me queasy. I've tried cutting things out of my diet to see if there are allergies at work, and so far nothing has made a difference.

Perhaps it's the stress manifesting itself in a different form. Wouldn't surprise me.

finals weekend...

I'm dying.

Not literally dying, but metaphorically dying. As in my brain cannot seem to function and my eyes want to stay shut forever.

How is it possible for me to have so much to do, yet be so bored?

Honestly, I do not know how I'm going to retain all of this information. All of it is familiar because I discussed it (or listened to my professor drone for an hour every other day) in classes three times a week, but really. I don't know how I'll write good, solid mini essays on events/people/books when I am required to prepare for 41, but only need to know 10. So much information.

Not to mention that same professor, who I have two classes with, told my entire American Studies class that we are "terrible writers" and that "some of your essays are so bad that I just read through the first paragraph and wrote 'I quit' on the top, then gave you a C. If you'd spent time on your essays, and actually attempted to do a good job, I might have read all of it. But really -- it's not like you're freshmen. Really, just awful. Awful."

If I didn't need a good grade, I would write, "I read the first question and it was so bad that I realized I can't take this exam because I don't have enough time to actually attempt to do a good job. I quit."

Temptation. Plagues me to no end.

so frustrated...

I have an exam tomorrow morning (and you know how much I stress about exams).

Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to remember all of this material. Right now, I can't seem to take in any more. All of the words on the study guide are just that -- words. They don't mean anything now! Nothing I read is sticking.

How can I write essays on things I barely understand?

"Specifics matter. I know BS when I see it...so don't do it," said the professor.

And he's serious. According to previous students, his tests are "ridiculous," "a bear," "the reason I hated that class so much."

Let's just say I'm in tears -- I hate exams. I never feel prepared, and this time I was unable to study as much as I wanted to (life happens -- it happens a lot lately). The caffeine isn't helping me concentrate or stay awake. The headaches are back in full force. STRESSED. OUT.

Prayer. Coke Zero. Celtic Pandora station. Aleve. Pages and pages and pages of notes. Google Doc.

All questions on exam require an essay answer. 12 possible questions (none of which were detailed when we discussed the exam in class). 5 questions given. 4 questions to answer. 1 hour in which to answer all 4 questions.

Screw it.

day 3...

Currently on hour 70 of one of the worst headaches I've ever had in my whole life. So far I've been through one 50 count bottle of Ibuprofen in the last 4 days. Wondering if it's even helping anymore...I honestly don't know why this is happening. I'm told it's most likely stress -- that is very possible. Incredibly possible. Here's the short list of stress inducing things:

1. An unexpected guest in my house who was invited by my roommate who moved out a week ago. This guest is a) staying longer than I was told she would, b) does not have my landlord's permission to be in the house, c) has been keeping me up all night due to her need to watch movies late at night with the sound up because "I get so bored," and d) invites her family members to stay in the master bedroom, again without permission from the landlord. I contacted my landlord and told her what's going on, and she said she'll take care of it. I just hope she isn't mad at me.

2. More things happened with Callie over the weekend. It's getting better though, but it's taking a long time and a lot of effort on my part. I'm very frustrated because I don't have time to talk to her every minute of the day, or spend time with her, and I really  need to try and sleep when I can. Luckily she's starting to get things rolling and we're heading in a good direction.

3. I'm supposed to go swimming with someone this weekend. I don't have a swimming suit that I feel comfortable in and I can't find one online that can be here in four days (shipping options are only 10-14 business days at all of the places I've looked). I'll go look for one tonight probably, but still. I look terrible in a swimming suit. Not okay.

4. Balancing school and work is very, very difficult. I ended up dropping one of my classes because I'm pretty sure I won't be able to handle the homework and work 20 hours a week. So far I've been getting all of the reading done after school and work, and during my breaks during the day. But it's a tight schedule. I need to get really good grades, and I'm worried that I won't do as well as I need to.

5. My health isn't improving very fast. Something is always hurting, particularly my head. It makes it hard to get my homework done, because sunlight and artificial light hurt my eyes, as does reading. If I tilt my head down for too long or look to the side, my eyes start blurring and I get very dizzy. It's rather frustrating.

I'll make it work. Things will be okay. I'm just doing the best that I can and trying to take care of myself as well. Things will work out.

bedridden...

Have you ever thought about the word "bedridden?" There's the word "bed," obviously, and then "ridden." If you look at them separately, it seems like the whole word should mean "rid of bed."

Because I was curious, I looked up the actual definition of the word "ridden" and found that there is no connection to "rid of" at all. It's more like this: full of, overwhelmed by, past tense of the verb "to ride." You get the idea.

So now I wonder, am I full of the bed, or is the bed full of me?

Duh. I know the answer to that, promise. In any case, I'm stuck in bed again. I got up and started getting ready for New Student Orientation this morning (which is what I've been doing all week), but found myself getting progressively worse. The four Ibuprofen I'd taken an hour before I actually got out of bed weren't doing much. After fixing everything up with the other two group leaders and making sure things were taken care of for the day, I went back to bed and have been here ever since.

It's not so bad when I'm not moving. Once I start walking around and doing stuff, good grief. Not sure what is going on in there! This body of mine has got some issues for sure.

Bedridden. I almost wish it meant "rid of bed." Being in bed is boring! Or as Parker says, "Bed is merely a place one goes to waste time."

Really, though. I have so much to do. The house is a disaster (or at least it is according to me and my outrageous need to keep things spotless -- to others it looks just fine), I don't know where any of my classrooms at school are, I need to pick up my paycheck and go grocery shopping, I don't have a backpack (the one I've used since third grade is long past retirement) or any school supplies, my housing waiver isn't finished and I don't have a printer at my place to get it ready, I'm totally ditching my NSO students, GAH!

The other thing is that worrying makes the pain worse. I just need to stop worrying and rest. Oh, and by the way. I just got off the phone with the receptionist at the doctor's office. My appointment is in two weeks. First time ever scheduling a doctor's appointment for myself. I made one for Hannah last week at the clinic, but never one for me.

Growing up, people. And now back to bed. Peace.

lately...

...thinking...
...so confused on so many levels...so much so that I just try not to think
...school starts soon...soon as in way too soon
...there is way too much good music to enjoy it all fast enough -- same goes for books
...not sure why all of these engagements, weddings, and newborns make me kind of sad inside
...do I really feel left out or would I even want to go to things if I got invited anyway? maybe both...
...dunno how I'm going to survive the upcoming semester -- try not to stress out before you get your syllabi, okay, kiddo?
...did I just call myself kiddo?
...it was so much easier to handle things before you held me


...doing...
...I've been cast as Zombie #10 in the music video -- kinda glad I went back and auditioned because this could be super fun
...made Cranberry BBQ meatballs in the crock pot yesterday and they were super delicious over rice
...DIDN'T answer a text message from someone and didn't even feel super guilty about it
...closed a chapter in my book of life, and will not be looking back -- wishing you the best of luck, Garrett (you may know him as Aries)
...got a call from Hannah yesterday morning asking me to come to the doctor's office where she was awaiting a verdict on her head injury -- yes, I was the one who held her hand while she got stitches and yes, I made it through the whole procedure without passing out (which is a huge deal for me [she's fine, by the way])
...inflated SO. MANY. BALLOONS. at work the past three days -- so over that dealio
...didn't do my room mate's dishes (did my own)
...cleaned the windows in the kitchen and the hallway -- pretty sure the interior windows haven't been cleaned in at least three years...gross
...watched The Swan Princess with Alyssa tonight -- "You should write a book: How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less."
...5:30am phone calls are a great way to start your day
...5:00pm phone calls are a great way to get through an afternoon
...picked up my textbooks -- all 19 of them (and they are so not worth three hundred and sixty-one dollars)
...another job: babysitting for a professor once or twice a week on my evenings off during the school year -- two adorable kids, $40-$50 a night, kids go to bed at 8pm, did I mention the kids are adorable?


...feeling...
...absolutely irritated with everything about people (or most people) and totally unsure why
...at peace with some parts of my life, like the fact that the whole Garrett thing is mostly over for me
...high anxiety due to my trip to the college today -- I don't want to go back to school...I so do not want to go back to school with 33,000 students and hours of homework and everything that college entails
...better about dad's situation because things are definitely looking up
...missing you a lot -- darn you
...like it would be great to throw something and listen to it shatter (but that is violent and I won't do it)
...sleep deprived!

reaction time...

My friend Linnea is quite possibly one of the most "chill" people I have ever met. So when she told me that I was so stressed out that I was making her nervous, I knew that there was something wrong.

At first I was a little confused. I didn't feel particularly stressed -- more like exhausted and scared. Which, come to think of it, are symptoms of stress. I began a mental inventory of things that could possibly be stressing me out.

One. The Parker thing. And it doesn't have anything to do with the post about the conversation we had on the phone.
Two. School. Like the fact that I might have to go for another year. And that it costs money.
Three. School with two jobs and wondering how I am going to get my homework done this fall.
Four. Money. Two jobs, school, rent, food. Money. Bleh.
Five. Room mate stuff for fall.
Six. Having too much food in the fridge/pantry/freezer (yes -- that does stress me out a little).

So I had a list of things that were stressing me out, but they didn't seem like anything I haven't been a little worried about this whole summer. They've always been there in the back of my mind (except for the Parker thing because that's new). Why surface now?

While running a double check inventory, I remembered these little things.

One. Dad has started his cancer treatments (oh, yeah, I forgot to mention -- my dad was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago). He actually seems to be feeling a little better. He's not quite as tired.
Two. Callie is doing much better. She told the authorities and a court date is set for next week. She also bought a fish today and named him Thomas. She carries her pepper spray with her all the time, and she is laughing and smiling often. She isn't healed, but she's getting better every day.
Three. Things at work are a little better.

But all of these things are good developments, so why are they stressing me out?

Oh. Wait. Because now that all of these people involved are doing better, I seem to have subconsciously recognized that I can take a bit of a break from being the strong one. Think of it as a delayed reaction -- two weeks after the fact, I'm starting to really feel the impact of all of these things. My dad. Callie. Work. Even little Leonardo dying (I miss him so much). I suddenly feel awful -- nervous, exhausted, irritated, sometimes downright depressed -- and I think part of it is because it isn't necessary for me to be calm, or just there, all of the time.

Couple this lack of being needed with the resurfacing old stresses (plus the Parker thing) and presto. You've got one awkward, jumpy, uptight, spring-loaded little girl. Delayed reactions, people. De-freakin-layed.

Bad. Bad, bad. Thank goodness for a good gym buddy (working out really does help with stress -- who knew), strawberries, a fat old chocolate lab whom I love, and the promise of an evening with the Raddatz family tomorrow night. Always good to have something to look forward to! Not to mention I'm providing Thomas the Betta with an apartment and food for his new residence in PartyLand. He's gonna be one spoiled little fishy.

Actually...having Thomas at PartyLand is another stress. I'm feeling extremely protective over this little fish. Bettas are a bit tricky. If he dies...good grief. I might fall apart.

Bad. I need more strawberries. And sleep. Psh. Sleep. Who does that?

stressed...

1. Finals
2. Finals...I cannot afford to fail my finals...finals
3. Stupid Religion project which I am going to fail because there is no way this seed is going to grow. It's the 7th one I've tried to get to grow over the course of the semester. I've done everything my professor told us to do. Still nothing. It's due on Wednesday. Nothing. Failing grade.
4. Bedroom = disaster
5. Money. Where does it all go?
6. Finals
7. Can't sleep. Almost ever. When I do sleep, it's just nightmares and tossing and turning, never resting.
8. Mom
9. Mom
10. Mom
11. Finals
12. How lonely I feel, and how guilty I feel that I haven't been able to keep in touch with others or help them as much as I wish I could
13. Ate too much...keep eating too much...checked the scale and saw weight gain...bad words in my head
14. Are you still mad at me? I wish you'd tell me, because I'm too afraid to ask you.
15. Dad's going out of town this week again, it's spring break for my sister, choir tour for my other sister, finals for me and mom...ugh. It's going to be a long week.
16. My family (mom's side of the family minus mom because she was sick and stayed home) spent a quarter of an hour after dinner tonight discussing how great I am and how well I represent the family. How good a student I am and how I'll be the first grandchild to graduate from college, how I'll be the first grandchild to go on a mission, how they guess I'll be the first to find a worthy young man to marry, how I set and will continue to set a good example for the rest of the cousins, how I'm good and kind and hard working and intelligent and so much more, so much that I wanted to stand up and scream STOP IT PLEASE. How am I supposed to live up to all of that? What happens if I don't do well, if I do make a mistake, if I fail somewhere? What will they all say? What will they think of me?
17. I have no idea how I got this limp in my left leg, but I did, and it hurts, and I don't know why. Maybe it has something to do with the knots in my shoulders...I need knew pillows. Money...bug.
18. Wow, I'm a brat. Look at how good I've got it and all I see are the bad things. Stupid girl! Grow up.

sometimes I wonder...

I've learned a lot this weekend. I've learned that I
1) don't flirt,
2) don't understand adult humor,
3) don't understand most normal humor,
4) that if ever I am a distressed damsel, I usually have to take care of the problem by myself because I'm either afraid to ask for help or asking for help would be pointless, and
5) that I'm socially bashful and on many occasions very awkward.

How do I know this? Well, either someone told me or, after noticing patterns in my life, I came to the conclusions myself.

Last night I went to a play with my parents. It was supposed to be a comedy buuuuuuut I wasn't laughing. Why? Because I didn't get any of the jokes. My parents were both laughing their heads off, as were most of the people in the audience. Not me though. That was a weird start to the night, being the only one who didn't get the jokes. Heck, even the 12-year-old kid whose dad was in the show was laughing! Sometimes I wonder...

This particular group of friends has a tradition of going to IHOP after a show, whether they performed in it or not. The three families (mine, the Carrascos, and the Poulsens with Jaden who is their cousin) made a sort of caravan over to the nearest IHOP and we, as usual, took up three tables. I sat with the younger people, me being the oldest at nearly 20 and the youngest being 11 (who I met when she was 9 months old). On the other end sat the real grown-ups, or at least age wise. I'm not sure about the maturity level...lol.

As I sat with the kids, one of them being one of my best friends (Jaden), I didn't understand half of what they were talking about! Their jokes and comments and such just went over my head. Or sometimes I got the gist of it, but I didn't want more than the gist because I could feel my cheeks burning (as Mitchell so kindly pointed out several times). To top it off, Mitchell started giving me advice about boys. And a lot of the advice sounded rather sound, too. For nearly twenty minutes I received relationship advice from a 12-year-old. A TWELVE year old! What is WRONG with me?! Sometimes I wonder...

So, I don't get adult jokes. So, I don't get teenage jokes, either. So, I'm the only one besides the 11-year-old who can't claim to have some sort of relationship, though I'm not sure if it counts for them or not. I mean...how lame is it to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend when all you can do is hang out at recess, and you have to ask your mom to drive you over to his or her house to hang out? You can't even go on a date because you don't have any money! So, why do these things bother me so much when none of them really matter? So what? Whatever the what is, it seems to mean a lot more to me than it should.

It was an awkward night for me. It's been an awkward weekend, to be honest. Not to mention this morning that I got super dizzy in the shower, thought I was going to throw up, and suddenly found myself on the ground wondering what the heck happened.

My sister Meghan has always (and I mean always) conveniently passed out while surrounded by strapping young men who carry her to a couch, bring her water, and do all sorts of heroic acts to make the distressed damsel comfortable. Me? I pass out in the shower. There is nothing dignified or romantic about that. Sometimes I wonder...

And, yes. Someone told me I don't flirt and that I'm socially bashful and often awkward. Gee...thanks for that. Now that I know what my problem is, I'm going to go read my book. Maybe I'll get lucky and find a Beast to fall in love with me...after all, he does have a beautiful rose garden in which I could amuse myself for hours on end. If I take care of his flowers well enough, do you think he'd overlook the bashful awkwardness? I'll take my chances.**


**I'm not bitter. I'm actually making myself laugh...seriously.**

and then it went to pot...

I worked the evening shift today. One of the girls texted me and asked if I would cover for her. I didn’t want to…I wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to stay in bed. Buuuuuuut, I figured it would be good to get out of the house, and heaven knows I can use the money. After about two hours, though, I decided that it would have been a very, very good day to just stay in bed. I was just so freakin' clumsy.

First, I dropped an open cooler on the grass and tried to catch it, succeeding only in having the lid slam down on my hand. Which is now bruised. EW. And ouch.

Second, I poured strawberry flavoring into the tiger's blood container, realized my mistake, and tried to pour the liquid back into the right bottle. While trying to do that, I lost my balance and spilled the red juice all over my left hand and arm. That hand is currently dyed pink.

Third, I sprayed myself in the face with a jet of shaved ice because I didn't raise the cup up fast enough. That was in front of a cute guy who was talking to me and asking me questions and stuff and I totally iced my face.

Fourth…I don’t know how it happened but the mango and orange-pineapple flavors went AWOL right at the same time and just like, jumped off of the shelf. Juice everywhere, including on me.

Fifth, while I was refilling the cherry flavor, the flavor mix bubbled up and sprayed all over my pants.

Sixth, I tripped on a cooler and went flying into the cash register, pushing the "total" button and making the receipt spit out like crazy.

Seventh, I smacked the back of my head on the ice chest out back while pulling out another cooler full of ice. Then the lid of the ice chest slammed shut on my back, and I lost my grip on the cooler and dropped it. As it fell, it took half of me with it. I’m sure that the people sitting at the table eating their snow cones enjoyed my impromptu slapstick routine. It probably would have been better if I’d had two more days to rehearse.

By the end of the shift I was freaking embarrassed and wondering what was wrong with me. I just felt sick and disoriented and tired and dizzy, and then everything attacked me.

I must have magic powers or something. I destroy things just by looking at them. And yes. All of this really did happen. Truth is stranger than fiction, friends. I would know. I live truth. My life, no matter what I want, will never be fictional. Which is sad. I really could use an editor to fix my mistakes before they're published for the world (or at least my friends and family) to see.

Anyway. It was definitely an interesting shift. Makes me sooooo excited for Monday.

you're an unpleasant surprise...

Aries strikes again. And this time, he has officially struck out.

When I got out of the shower today I noticed that there was a text from Aries on my phone. He was wondering if I was at home. Yes, why, I said, knowing that he probably would invite himself over. Which ended up happening. I was home alone, so before he could tell me he was coming over I called in backup. Ruthie told me she could be there in half an hour, shortly after Aries would arrive.

He and I didn’t talk about anything. Ruthie deflected the one time the subject came up, when Aries started off by asking me if I still hate him. I told him I don’t, and he said, “Well, you sure made it sound like you do. Seeing as you pretty much told me to go jump off a cliff.”

I never. Ever. Said that. Or anything like it. When I told him so, he said that yes, you did, and then Ruthie broke in loudly saying that she couldn’t find the last two pages of her script for the play she is in. I was very glad she did that, because I was pretty sure any conversation Aries and I started would end very badly. Which kind of happened anyway. After he left, he texted me. All day long I’ve been fighting between anger and heartbreak.

He asked me if I still like him. Here’s where I lied. I really do have feelings for him. Still. Even though I shouldn’t. But it’s not safe for him to know that. If he knows, then he won’t let it go. So I lied. I told him no. Ruthie said it was for the best, too. Then he said he'd wasted my time. I told him he hadn't. Another lie, this time halfway. It was good to see him. At the same time, though, I was wishing he’d never come. While he was sitting there, I just wanted him to leave. It’s impossible to feel safe with someone you don’t, and can’t, trust. It’s hard to be with someone who you are afraid of.

Again, he told me to have a nice life and that I won't be seeing much of him anymore. For some reason, I started to cry. For all of two minutes. Then he said this: “And I’m not shallow enough to stop seeing you because you don’t like me. It’s because I disagree with how you dealt with things.”

*cough*

ExCUSE me? How I dealt with things? Yes, I made my share of mistakes. But for him to have the nerve to say something like that when he knows for a fact that he manipulated and used and hurt me is infuriating.

Now I don’t know how I feel. Furious, yes. And at the same time, I feel crushed. I feel guilty and hurt and terribly alone. I shouldn’t feel guilty. The guilt is misplaced. I feel it anyway, though. Even while I was working, sometime it would hit me and I’d cry.

Jordan was right. It was a bad idea to talk to him. A really bad idea.

I hope he stays away. It’ll be so much easier to get over if he just leaves. This leave and come back and leave and come back and leave again thing is too hard to deal with. I just want him to leave. I’m so scared of him now. This has always been my worst fear, ever since I was little, to get into a mess with a boy who was abusive. And every time, it's my fault. To Aries, it's always my fault.

Work was good for me today. The AF snowie has a TV, and I spent all afternoon cleaning the shack and watching PBS. I had no idea that they have “The Brady Bunch” reruns on PBS!! It totally made me happy. As did watching "America's Got Talent", "The Voice", and an episode of "Avatar: The Last Airbender". Not to mention "America's Funniest Home Videos". There were a couple of times when I was laughing out loud...good thing no customers were there!!

$16.58 in tips made me happy, too. And pistachio snow cones don’t taste anything like pistachios. Just sayin’.

there's a problem, officer...

So yesterday I was driving my dad’s car, which has temporary license plates. They are expired. Problem: we can’t get the real plates because we have yet to get the title from California. My brother gave us the car, and it was registered under his name in California. He didn’t have any reason to change it until he gave it to us. We’ve been trying to get the title from California for nearly 6 months.

As with everything government in California, it takes forever. I explained the situation to the officer, and showed him all of the paperwork to help my explanation. He took the papers and my license, went back to his car, and starting running the info through a computer. Usually this only takes five minutes. But no. He took fifteen. So I’m sitting there on a busy road with my window down (I didn’t know how long he would be, and the car has windows that you crank open or closed by hand, and sometimes it sticks) in the pouring rain getting soaked. I was trying not to cry because I was embarrassed to see people I know driving by—I was two blocks from my house. TWO.

The officer came back and handed me a ticket to sign, saying that there were two problems: the first was a warning for the expired plates. Not my fault. It’s California’s fault. We’re doing the best we can to get the plates, like calling them every week. Each time they’ve said that they sent them, then check the records and say, “Oh. Well, we thought we had. We’ll get them to you by the end of the week.” 6 months of that. Not my fault! The second: he wrote me a ticket for not being insured.

This first made me want to just jump off a bridge, and second (I never use this word, but I’m going to now) pissed me off. No insurance? He had the stupid insurance papers in his hand!! I am insured for every vehicle my family owns. I was there to sign the papers that are on file.

When I got home I was furious and threw a slight temper tantrum (and my keys). Then, of course, I started to cry. I was soaking wet, humiliated, angry, scared, and exhausted. The ticket instruction include a court summons thing, and a huge (and as of yet unknown) fine. It’s not even my fault, and half of the charge is wrong!! My dad looked it up with our insurance agent, who said that the cop is either an idiot or is an idiot. I guess he just made a mistake, but I’m mad enough to call him at least a halfwit. That’s a pretty dumb mistake to make, especially when he was holding my freaking insurance papers.

That was part of my Sunday. It was stupid.

stressed...

Wow. I kind of feel like dying right now. Honestly-I'm doing a pretty good job of it unintentionally all ready.

I'm not understanding a lot of my homework assignments, and when I ask teachers for clarification I just get more confused. The computer program at work is all messed up, so it makes my job take twice as long to complete. Not to mention people don't do their jobs on time so that means more work for me to go in and fix things.

The biggest stress is my constant feeling of "I don't care anymore." There's a pattern that I've noticed: August comes around and I'm super happy. September hits and I start to slide into lack of energy. October rolls around, and by the end of it I don't care about anything and I seriously consider giving up. November is just more of the same.

So stress...yeah. It's great. Stupid kid I am. I'll grow up one of these days. I hope.