Friday, April 3

Too Sleepy For Clever Titles...

Two of my besties aren’t talking to me at the moment. The first is giving me the silent treatment because I somewhat confessed my feelings for him again (yes, again. How many times am I going to let the same kid break my heart? I have no idea…). The second is in some weird funk because she thinks there’s a great cosmic conspiracy out to ruin her life---so she’s not talking to anyone, last time I checked. I’ve still got the giraffe, though, if that’s any consolation.

I need more friends.

Gabi says that I shouldn’t let this bad experience(s) stop me from putting myself out there. She says it’s a brave sort of thing.

I don’t feel very brave. I feel defeated. Being open hurts. Being vulnerable is stupid. But I know I wouldn’t want to be any other way. I don’t want to live my life without taking chances, without challenging the status quo. Sure, sometimes it’ll back fire and bitch slap you like you wouldn’t believe (example: right now), but it’s better than doing nothing and always wishing you had. I’m at least going to try.

I’m exhausted and thankful that I only had this morning to revel in my stupidity. Working isn’t as fun as it was at Manhattan. There aren’t college kids running around the place, so there isn’t much goofing off. Oh well, at least I won’t mess up nearly as much. Maybe they won’t fire me this time….?

I was going to go to bed, but I’ve received a cryptic text from John telling me to sign on aim in a little bit, so I’m just going to wait this one out.

I’m starving. I just realized that all I had to eat today was a few Twizzlers I mooched off of Gabi and a garlic knot.

I’m not going to write a poem. I’m going to curl up next to my dad in the family room, like some wounded kitten, and I’m going to listen to him tell my mom all about his day.


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