My late night traversing is sometimes something out of a really terrible movie. I turn on a sad, slow acoustic song, hold the wheel in one hand and rest my cheek in the other. I get in these moods where I’m just completely dissatisfied with myself and every decision I’ve ever made and have no confidence in where I want to go. I linger at green lights, retrace the steps I’ve taken and try to figure out where I could have done something differently. As if where I am now rests solely on a handful of “big decisions,” but still, I kind of just let everything around me ebb and blur. I concentrate deeply, retrace my life, pick some significant moment and imagine the outcome should I have done something differently. I’m rather realistic about it too, which is good I suppose because one time I imagined myself into a hole with no outlet. So the activity sometimes helps reaffirm my decisions, I guess. Not on nights like tonight, though. Nights I feel stupid and undermined and complacent, everything sounds better. 

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I’m a terrible driver in the middle of the night so keep your distance.

I feel heavy. The weight of things I don’t need to bother with are carried within me. Teeming above furrowed brows and pounding through my temples. I feel it trying to escape; it gives me this twitch on the inner corner of my right top eyelid. I never “feel” stressed out. In my head, I mean. G’head, ask me, I’ll tell you I’m not and I’m fine. My body tells me when I am, though.

I’m just not a people person for certain people, but I find myself needing to be for x and y reasons. It’s becoming increasingly difficult hiding the fact that I truly do not give a shit about them. But this is what gets me: That it gets to me. I mean, that I keep trying to do what I think is right.

That while all the while I’m doing what I think is right, I fantasize about your untimely death by I don’t know…microscopic razor blades on your q-tips, so you slowly tear yourself up from the inside, leading to a massive cerebral hemorrhage. This way, the thing you’ve failed to use properly your whole life ultimately leads to your stroke, leaving you incapacitated and left to die attached to machines and in an unflattering hospital gown. 

I feel like that got kind of dark. I mostly just want certain people to leave me alone, I guess. 

Got another curve ball from that crafty ol’ program director of mine. Take home final: Thy name is cunt. I was so excited for it because, in theory, they are easier and less stressful. I’d like to show you what the questions look like, but for fear of incarceration or some sort of disembowelment for sharing any type of this test with anyone, I’d rather not. Just believe me when I say how disgusted I am at how little I know, and even still, how able I am to accomplish all of 2 questions throughout the course of one, so far, 13 hour day. I have until Saturday to finish it, and in an effort to limit my distractions, I’ve asked Evan to change my Facebook password. 

This inadvertently means we may be having a few more scheduled sessions this week. 

4.6.12: I did not have more sessions. I was a good student, for once.

I think people make the mistake of treating me like an adult all together far too often. I know, it’s because I let them make that mistake, but it is easy to be one most the time. I’m trying to understand it, and I think it gets hard when people start to act like children. I guess I should tell ya, Doc, but I’m the president of my class. I don’t mind it. I’d go as far as saying I like it…for learning experiences, for the chance to keep people organized and focused and for the sheer feeling of superiority and better-ness because I’m at the top of the totem pole.

But like it as much as I may, I’m terrible at it when dealing with adamant little hard headed selfish fuckers. I’ve been told there’s always types in any position of leadership that want to bring you down…I try to deal with these type of people, but instead I decide they’re too stupid and this is too hard, so I run to the program director to tattle tell. She fixes it.

So I guess what it comes down to is that feeling of superiority and better-ness isn’t really recognized because it isn’t really true and I have a lot left to learn. I don’t know how I feel about that. 

You need to know I’m an annoying self conscious shit, but I did something right. I love the people I know. Every last fucking one of them. I know such wonderful people. I don’t know how I got so lucky. My boyfriend is the best one I know. I think it’s just that damned ambient Thanksgiving air, because more often than not people annoy the piss out of me…but somehow I know the ones that keep the piss in. 

I need help. I need real, substantial, fits in the palm of my hand help. It’s a little less than 3 weeks away from my final exam. I need a sure-fire remedy to get into that “study mode” quick. I have a left over Xanax prescription. Will that help? I didn’t think so. The only thing that will remedy this is pushing myself to the very end until I have to study.

I won’t ever kick the habit of procrastination. I just don’t see it happening.

I’m begging ya, Doc…I need a drug that makes me feel like every night is the night before the exam.

Someone did a presentation on the integumentary system in class and I asked, “So is there an explanation for that feeling you get when you think your phone is vibrating in your pocket and you pull it out and no one texted you?” Everyone laughed and no one could empathize. Some made comments like the explanation is my insanity. My teacher said it probably is a degree of psychosis and misfiring nerve impulses due to anticipation. 

All that is besides the point, though. I’m calling bull shit that no one else in class has had that feeling.

This is a tough one to talk about. Not that I wouldn’t freely in any other scenario, but it’s just the subject matter and the fact we have our sessions here…so I need to go about it in a round about kind of way.

I’m disappointed. I party with babies sometimes. They don’t know what they’re doing. They get so pumped about “awesome shit,” though those I spoke to admitted to never doing it before.

I needed to say that first.

I’m certain I drank my booze and had a good time, but it becomes entirely too much about itself and the act and the excite of expectations when other things start to happen. But what’s terrible is, like I said, I had my booze so I had that happy boozy feeling. The psychosomatic affect is annoying. I don’t care what it is; it doesn’t happen that quickly. The party became an act, and that’s when I began to feel uncomfortable. I was glad to leave and glad my boyfriend had a curfew. Scapegoats are nice.

…It was probably just liquified vegetables.

I had one of those surreal moments today. It wasn’t happening when it was happening. It only happened. Then I left and I realized what happened. It was post processed surrealism. Anyway, in the first year of the RT program, the 2nd years came to give me and the 1st year class a sort of pep talk. I remember feeling nervous and feeling I’d never be in their position. I was so overwhelmed and that was my biggest fear. To not be there. Today I was. Time is nothing. The things I worry about are nothing. I don’t often realize this, but when I do, I feel so relieved. The feeling doesn’t last. I don’t know why.

I wake up every day not knowing what day it is. I lie in my bed and don’t know the day for a good 12 seconds and I panic for all 12 of those seconds trying to figure out if I’ve slept in or not, or trying to figure out what I forgot to do. This is every day. Maybe an exception here or there, but it’s made me incredibly neurotic and I feel it’s a terrible way to start the day.

I had a new idea for a blog. It’s supposed to start after this post, but this is a post, so I’m telling you how I feel about this change. I’m glad to have done it but feel self aware and self actualized for not really doing anything. That makes me feel embarrassed for even doing it at all. It also doesn’t correlate with any of my previous posts, but that’s because I didn’t want to start a new blog and re-following the 6 or 7 people I know would’ve been a lot of work. I guess I could delete some posts. Yeah, I may do that…

Nevermind. I feel so complacent.