08.05.2004
Currently "black-eyed"
Today I'm angry. That I have to go to work tomorrow, that running to the store makes me tired, that I feel the need to shave my legs before my re-emergence into society. One happy bit: my dad told me on the phone that even if I weren't his daughter that he'd want to know me anyway. And unlike me, I cried. I don't normally cry in front of people. I mean, it happens sometimes when I'm feeling really bad, but not normally. Not in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday. So what do I take from that? That I'm not normal yet. Perfect. And here comes the crushing depression that illness/recovery brings, in addition to my usual portion of it that resides in my skull.
So I forced myself to go to Walgreens for some supplies. How dare they not sell black nail polish? I'm feeling angsty and want to express it some tiny way that only I will know what it truly means, but no, corporate fuckers don't sell black nail polish. Damnit, why is everything so fucking difficult? So I got some tylenol PM to help me sleep tonight so I can wake up at 6:00am for work for the first time in almost a month. I'm so anxious that I won't remember how to do anything, that I won't make it through the day, and especially of dealing with all the bright-eyed people who didn't call while I was sick and will be "so glad" to see me. Fuckers. If there was some way I could work without seeing anyone else, I'd be glad for it. At my last job, I could get away with that a lot, and I'm really bitter that I don't have that freedom anymore. Freedom from false friends, from lunchlines, from schedules.
Currently listening to: Placebo's "Soulmates Never Die" DVD and NIN's "the Downward Spiral", depending on whether I'm in the bedroom or the living room. Being angry makes me feel falsely strong.
Currently avoiding: paying my bills, cleaning my room, cleaning the rest of the apartment, being calm.
Violence clings to me like paint, striping me half-ways, stripping me always.
alannablue at 5:30 p.m.