complaints
eww.
ants.
eww.
I've made a scary realization since reading More, Now and Again: A Memoir of Addiction Elizabeth Wurtzel's newest book. She keeps describing her living conditions while she's living in Florida hopped up a combination of Ritalin and cocaine. The thing is it doesn't seem all that bad in comparison to the way I keep my room. So I'm cleaning.
Today is anxiety filled. I hate not feeling comfortable in this relationship yet. Small things, like IM conversations that fade away, are enough to convinve me that he's annoyed with me or something. Ergh. I guess I thought one day I wouldn't feel this way about thing sanymore, constantly fearing that all good things will end. Trusting that the universe isn't against me. And I guess I thought that the anxiety would be gone by now, that I was going to get a stockpile of confidence for my birthday. That didn't happen.
Ergh.