I was on the phone with Dan last night, and we sort of rationalized that it's possible I have some sort of an anxiety disorder. ((strange that scog talks about the same thing the same day!)) It probably is true, I have the wonderful signs of it, but fuck me if I go on to medication. Of course this is a self-diagnosis, but I mean. Everyone else seems to care about stuff alot less.
Tonight a bird spit it's food right into my right eye, causing temporary blindness and a lost contact lens. Two minutes ago I had to get my cat from outside and he kicked me in the same eye. If I didn't have my glasses on by then, I'm sure I'd be a lot less happy.
I wrote a somewhat decent essay this morning on Othello, even though I didn't exactly read it. I'm proud of myself since I was originally just not going to do it at all.
Tomorrow is school, and my birthday, and the driver's test, and man. I'm nervous about failing. Bah.
The computer should be moving up to my room soon. It doesn't really directly affect any of you, but I'm excited about that. Also I think I get home by 1 tomorrow, since concert choir isn't until Thursday. It will feel sort of like an after school activity then. Very interesting.
Alright. Seinfeld time and then bed time. Goodnight!
Posted by Maleta at 10:44 p.m.