Well, well. If this doesn't appear to be the time for swift kicks in the ass, I'm not sure what else it could be. Hmm... I had written that this one was less cruel and more helpful, but I took it back. Nope. It was cruel and cold and... exactly what I needed. I found myself agreeing to it, and well, that was enough for me! I started in on doing my work right away! And, I'm happy to report, I'm happy doing it.

I am... tired. Unbearably so. And riled, unfortunately, a devastating combination. Oooh... The baseboardis warm on my toes... It feels so nice..

My hair is straightened. It looks pretty. Maybe tomorrow I'll try to look pretty... Probably not. I'm shallow but not vain. A walking contradiction, I think. Carolyn says she doesn't get it. I expect pretty boys- which I get!- but I refuse to put any effort into my own appearance... Or, rather, I look like I jsut don't care... Which I rarely do. Jeans, hoody, hair up/down/combed/ratty. Whatever. On those rare days when I doll up, the difference is just that much better. Maybe tomorrow will be a doll-up day. Probably not, it's Friday.

Drugs really bother me. -Really-. And I know you... I want to help. It's my rescuer complex. BUt I can't, and I know it. I can't do -anything-, except support you and show you that it's not the only way. Funny how you're the one who ends up giving me a boost most of the time... *Smirks* Maybe we're both so fucked up, we jsut don't realize how much we like to hang with people of the same ilk- makes us feel better about ourselves.

God, it's late... Don't ever let me write when it's lat.e..