Howard Hughes

I have spent almost the entirety of the last two days hiding in my apartment. I would probably do the same thing today if I didn't need to go to work and earn money to pay for my apartment, while almost all my best friends are in town playing on Watauga Lake. Pretty much I hate the world. I know I should be grateful for a job and all, but . . . I can't say I'm not still trying to win the lottery.

I am obsessing. Again. Which is ridiculous because the object of my obsession won't be back in-country for another six weeks. Hmmph.

(Sometimes I wonder if I will ever grow out of this shit.)

Once again, I feel like curling up and crawling into some small part of myself where no one will see me. And then I tell myself 'you're being a big fucking baby, get off your ass and DO something if you're not feeling productive' and then I'm all like 'but I don't waaaannnnaaaa... I just want to be all depressed n shit!"

Also! I only had one drink yesterday. Huzzah. I was starting to think I was turning into a functional alcoholic. (I did start smoking again though, but if I'm going to have a 'bad habit' out of the two, that's the one I'd rather have. It gets you into less trouble.)

I need to get dressed. I need to go to work. I need to clean my apartment. I need to get my life together. I need to love myself.