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it must be thursday
Feb. 28th, 2008 11:55 amYesterday morning began with the euphoria of buying plane tickets... buying plane tickets for May, and not having to spend a dollar for the Airmiles.
This morning began with the stomach-lurching terror of realizing that a little tupperware container of yogurt in my lunchkit had exploded. In my backpack. On top of my laptop.
FUCK
sigh
I realize I'm not a rocket scientist. I realize I'm not even a fizzy bottle scientist in a pinch. I'm forgetful, I'm blonde, and I'm scatterbrained on the best of days. I'm an adult, really, but there are some goddamn days when I'd like a little sympathy, instead of a raised eyebrow and a question why my lunchkit was in my backpack in the first place, or if I didn't know that yogurt did that in the first place. Who do I have to goddamn skullfuck to get a hug under my roof instead of a 'told you so' in not so many words?
Laptop's currently in the shop, and I'm expecting a call sometime this afternoon with a prognosis.
Looking into external hard drives and another laptop, paid monthly, just in case. Worst case scenario, and all.
It feels in part worse as that laptop was a gift of utmost generosity. The six-year-old in me feels like I've fucked up, damaged something only loaned. I haven't just screwed up in losing access to internet at school, all of this semester's notes, and the art/photos/music that I haven't already backed up more than a month ago... I fucking spilled yogurt on something precious.
Anyone who knows how much manic possessiveness I can put on material objects should be able to put two and two together.
And my backpack smells like yogurt, goddamn it. And I have an email in my inbox from my ex, asking if it's worth the 'marginal' effort he'd been putting in to keep in touch.
Does anyone in this goddamn city know who the hell I am? At all?
This day needs a do-over. See icon.
I'm angry and I'm depressed and I am so very, very lonely right about now. I'm tired of the only warm body that seems to like my close proximity happening to be my cat. I'm tired of feeling like I'm forgetting what it's like to be physically friendly... I think so many people have no idea what the hell I'm even talking about when I say that. I'm tired of my mom smiling at me and saying that taking myself out for a movie date is a good thing, like it's an option instead of the norm. I'm tired of looking down at my passport application's section for references, and thinking, 'Shit. Who has known me in this place for longer than two years that I'm not related to?'
I want May. I want May. I need May.
I'm tired of not drawing.
I'm just...
sigh
This morning began with the stomach-lurching terror of realizing that a little tupperware container of yogurt in my lunchkit had exploded. In my backpack. On top of my laptop.
FUCK
sigh
I realize I'm not a rocket scientist. I realize I'm not even a fizzy bottle scientist in a pinch. I'm forgetful, I'm blonde, and I'm scatterbrained on the best of days. I'm an adult, really, but there are some goddamn days when I'd like a little sympathy, instead of a raised eyebrow and a question why my lunchkit was in my backpack in the first place, or if I didn't know that yogurt did that in the first place. Who do I have to goddamn skullfuck to get a hug under my roof instead of a 'told you so' in not so many words?
Laptop's currently in the shop, and I'm expecting a call sometime this afternoon with a prognosis.
Looking into external hard drives and another laptop, paid monthly, just in case. Worst case scenario, and all.
It feels in part worse as that laptop was a gift of utmost generosity. The six-year-old in me feels like I've fucked up, damaged something only loaned. I haven't just screwed up in losing access to internet at school, all of this semester's notes, and the art/photos/music that I haven't already backed up more than a month ago... I fucking spilled yogurt on something precious.
Anyone who knows how much manic possessiveness I can put on material objects should be able to put two and two together.
And my backpack smells like yogurt, goddamn it. And I have an email in my inbox from my ex, asking if it's worth the 'marginal' effort he'd been putting in to keep in touch.
Does anyone in this goddamn city know who the hell I am? At all?
This day needs a do-over. See icon.
I'm angry and I'm depressed and I am so very, very lonely right about now. I'm tired of the only warm body that seems to like my close proximity happening to be my cat. I'm tired of feeling like I'm forgetting what it's like to be physically friendly... I think so many people have no idea what the hell I'm even talking about when I say that. I'm tired of my mom smiling at me and saying that taking myself out for a movie date is a good thing, like it's an option instead of the norm. I'm tired of looking down at my passport application's section for references, and thinking, 'Shit. Who has known me in this place for longer than two years that I'm not related to?'
I want May. I want May. I need May.
I'm tired of not drawing.
I'm just...
sigh
