Strange, Too. (filleconcrete) wrote,
Strange, Too.
filleconcrete

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Something to do.

Setback last night. Massive breakdown, didn't go out. Quivering pile of snot and tears turning my white t-shirt translucent and making it cling to my skin. I did something bad, I think. I mean, to myself, accidentally.

My left eye isn't seeing right, and though both are puffy from crying, something seems wrong with it. It looks okay, no worse than the other, but feels heavy and strange. Conjunctivis is out of the question. Is it possible to cry enough to ruin your eyes? Or one eye?

I was supposed to get my passport Monday. It's Thursday. I promised myself, finally falling asleep last night, that I'd go get it today. But my eyes hurt, my head is pounding, and I have to go back to the post office again tomorrow, anyway. I am considering forcing myself out into the sun and humanity, but I don't think today can be saved somehow.

I feel overwhelming guilt at this small failure. I don't feel well at all.

I think I'm convincing myself that it's okay to not do anything today. Tomorrow promises to be infinitely better. Tomorrow is Trash!, and my good friends, and the weekend. I can go out in the afternoon, run my errands, eat a nice lunch/dinner by myself in the city, and meet up with David and Ashlyn for pre-game.

Crisis averted.

I bought a Depeche Mode imported Strangelove single when I was with my daddy last week. I think I'll listen to that. And get lunch, and watch some movies, and lie low. Maybe I'll take a nice shower with my new shampoo and body scrub, too, prepare for tomorrow so I can definitely get up early.

These things sound nice, and I am comforted by my own writing.
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