your own happiness doesn't necessarily teach you what you want to know
02.25.05 @ 12:09 a.m.
My collection of odd superstitions and beliefs in omens are telling me good things.
My terrible cowardice is telling me bad things.
I resolved to go see Saunders, both to see about getting added to the class and to ask if he knew offhand of any solutions to my scheduling conflict, but he wasn't in his office hours on Wednesday. Today I saw him pacing up and down the sidewalk outside PLC, but he was on his cell phone and I... I am a coward. I have serious fears when it comes to people. Even when I went on Wednesday, his office door was closed and I had to go up and down the hallway a couple of times and THEN I had to go sit in the stairwell for a minute to compose myself enough to knock on the door. Which just makes it maddening that I put myself through all that and he wasn't even there.
FUCKING HELL. Sometimes I just hate myself so much. Why do I have to be like this? Why do I have to be afraid all the damn time, never comfortable taking even the smallest risk or having the least adventure? I probably could benefit from therapy. My mom keeps telling me that if I'm serious in my worry I should consider it, because there is coverage through our insurance.
Great. Conquer your fear of people by exposing yourself to a stranger.
But that's not how I want to feel when I walk away from this day. I mean, when I started to write this, I actually was feeling inexplicably happy, really happy. You know who can cook a really fucking excellent steak? Me, that's who. Montreal steak marinade from the grocery store: red pepper, black pepper, garlic, salt, vinegar, water, oil. MMMMM. And I'm fascinated by an aspect of my gas oven: that drawer under the oven, where on an electric range you'd probaby keep all your pots and pans? I have a broiler drawer. A drawer totally devoted to the single act of broiling things. Oh, specialization of function. The good thing about steak, too, is that it isn't really that much work yet I'm encouraged to make a complete meal rather than just grabbing something nutritionally unbalanced. I mean, you have to at least have a salad with a steak. The first time around, I made cornbread, too, and sweet lord. I love when cooking turns out like that. The only thing I dislike about cooking is doing the dishes, and here if I don't do the dishes right away, my sink becomes a mass of ants. I hate them so much. Why won't the little bastards just eat the poison I laid out? It worked in the other house.
That orange ribbon? It's still around my wrist. I wonder when it will come off, and if it's cheating if I loosen and tighten it absentmindedly. I haven't messed with it in a while, and if I'm not doing it with conscious intent to cheat, then I can tell myself it's fate.
Bah. I have nothing good to say.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
