flowers

i have to

i was about to post a letter i wrote to someone, but then i realized that my LJ is no longer as private as it once was. contridictory as it is, because its not private but i mean...people read it now that i never would have had read it. i'm feeling frustrated by this because i want certain people to read it and others to not. which is why i'm going to have to make this friends only.
flowers

falling

im pretty damn sure i have vertigo or menaries or whatever the fuck it is, but my parents refuse to believe me or give me any medicine for it and take me to the doctor.

i had a dream my grandpa died.

and now this morning he can't even get out of bed.

i have to be at work in an hour and i'm trying so hard to hold myself together.
flowers

black friday

so i thought i'd have it made working 3-11pm.
everyone would be shopping this morning, because thats when they'd be out doorbusting sale shopping right?

WRONG.

everyone decides to show up at 3pm right when i clock in.

and theres not enough people at the register. so drop your bargin stuff and go to the register bre.
and the cafe people can't keep up. so drop your bargin stuff and go clean up the cafe bre.

and then wait until 30 minutes before close, and say, "by the way, the district manager is coming tomorrow, and your bargin section looks like shit."

thanks a fucking lot guys.

i busted my ass to get everyone elses shit done. then to criticise me for your lack of ability to manage a store by scheduling enough people? come on.

the only good part of my evening was the cool ranch doritos i had with my turkey sandwhich, and playing mario on scott's DS during my break. various guys i work with walked into the break room and saw me laying on the couch playing a video game and were like, "dude...you play video games?" um...yes. i have boobs, but i play video games. why is that such a hard concept to grasp?

i really need to start working out. im not happy with me. i hate looking in the mirror and getting dressed in the morning. its depressing.

on another note completely...

optimism is a strange condition. (pete yorn nod)
whenever im optimistic about anything, it doesnt change the sitatuion, therefore, im rarely optimistic.
...

ok so i have no clue where i was going with that. i think my brain is just fried. im starting to write things and not know why i'm writing them.
flowers

Who? what? me? overreact? nahh....

yea so he wasn't feeling well and was sleeping and had the phone on vibrate.

*whew*

my mom woke me up at friggen 9am. i am so tired. cleaned the guest bathroom...more fun with bleach in the cuts on my hands. ugh. that, and my house smells like turkey day stuff...and the mixture of the smells of bleach and thanksgiving is so unpleasant i nearly puked.

cleaned my room.

scott is coming over for thanksgiving. so are my grandparents. this makes me happy. people that make me happy, spending thanksgiving with me.

pie and cake also make me happy.

so does third eye blind. especially getting to listen to live concerts that ive been to. thank-you aaron dear.
flowers

i can't help it

i can't help it but my past is getting to me tonight.

"And breathing is a foreign task
and thinking's just too much to ask
and you're measuring your minutes by a clock that's blinking eights.
This is incredible.
Starving, insatiable,
yes, this is love for the first time.
Well you'd like to think that you were invincible.
Yeah, well weren't we all once before we felt loss for the first time?"

its 1:17am...where are you?

this is killing me. i know it shouldn't. its nothing right? please tell me its nothing. please let it be miscommunication and me being worried about nothing. please, even let it end in a fight because i'm too clingy or whatever. i don't care. just please be ok. its just because i care. i just want you to be ok.

and i can't even leave a voicemail. i hate that. not like a voicemail is going to answer me back or really make me feel better. but ugh.

unintentional pain hurts the most i think.

i hope its unintentional.
flowers

damn baby

you frusterate me...

thats how he sings it.

john mayer.
*sigh*

I'm exhausted. But I don't feel like sleeping.

Biggest bar night of the year. I'm too young to drink, but I still feel like I should be out having fun or at least seeing friends/doing something other than sitting here watching J.Mayer videos on YouTube.

Haven't talked to Scott since this afternoon and his away message hasn't changed and he's not answering his phone. I hate this. Its like...11:15pm. If he's sleeping, he's been sleeping since like 5pm. But I don't want to be the annoying nagging girlfriend and call again.

But I'm lonely.

And of course I have so few friends.

My other Scott is out at a party. Aaron is at work.

I really should clean my room because its messy as fuck and it needs to be done, whether Scott comes over tomorrow or not. But I'm too sleepy/sad/frustrated right now. I'm really upset I did so bad on that test and that I'm doing so bad in that class. I mean, I knew I wasn't getting an A, but I at least thought I had like a C+.

So I could copy my poems into the journal i found that I've been meaning to do. But I don't quite feel like it. Or I could fight with my TV and try to make my DVD player work, but that doesn't sound like fun either. I really don't want to do much of anything right now. I kinda just want to sit and talk and cuddle.

But alas I'm alone.

And my back hurts from cleaning the shower today.

What a blah night.
  • Current Music
    your body is a wonderland-jmayer
flowers

there goes my good mood

finally saw all my test grades for my africa class tonight.

map-45
test one-75
test two (the one i took today)-65.

FUCK.

I swear I did better. I don't know how I managed to fuck up that test that bad. It was short answer/fill in the blank and I only left like 3 empty and was nearly positive on all the others.
So now, to get a 71% in the class, I have to get a 100% on the third and final test. If I get a 100% and get the 10 extra credit questions, I can get a 73% in the class.

Doesn't the fact that I've only missed one class stand for something? Theres like 60 people in that class and only 13 of us actually show up. And he passes around an attendance sheet. Shouldn't we get some credit for that?

Ugh