Another Rrrrl Old Post

I’m really bored, but also very tired right now. If I had a little common sense, I would put my ass to sleep. I mean, I do have a class in less than eight hours. But do I listen to that tiny (teensy tiny, barely even there) part of my brain that tells me to do the sensible thing? Um, fuck no. Instead I will plant myself in front of a computer screen until my eyes shrivel up and fall out onto the keyboard.

Sigh. I gots me some mad memory problems lately. It’s getting to the point that I really think I should see a doctor. Someone my age really shouldn’t have this much trouble recalling memories. And honestly, sometimes I can’t distinguish between a real memory, and the mental pictures that I stored when someone recapped an event for me. So I think I ‘remember’ things that I wasn’t even there for, and pull up blanks when I try to recall what I did two days ago. And fucking forget chronological order. I honestly can’t remember whether or not something happened two days or two years ago. But the real kicker was when, a few days ago, I couldn’t remember my first kiss with Andrew. I was seriously freaked out. It is time for a doctor’s appointment. Oh yes, it is time.

Anywhoo, I started working at Payless. Compared to KB, there is absolutely nothing to do at all. And the schedule is broken up into fewer, but longer shifts. That means, three times a week, I spend eight or more hours shuffling shoes in their boxes, and wishing for my own death. I long for the end of my shift with an unprecedented violence that actually astounds me. Not to mention that I’ve been suffering from a vicious cold, which only serves to heighten my joy at having to work.

Speaking of my cold, I totally fucking Oded on Nyquil last night. It was almost midnight, and I was exhausted. I wasn’t really thinking, or paying attention to my surroundings. I threw on my pajamas, took my pills, and curled up under my covers. Only problem was, I forgot that I usually only take half a dose of Nyquil, since I’m extra sensitive to medicine. Thirteen hours later, I awoke with weak, shivery limbs, and the feeling that if I laid back down I would sleep the rest of the day away. I felt like I was getting over the flu. What super sucked was that Andrew and I were going to hang out, and instead I spent the morning in a drug-induced coma. And I had told him that I wasn’t going to let that happen again…

I don’t know what’s been going on with me, but lately I have been spitting out poetry with alarming frequency. *woodknock* Creepy, Sylvia Plath-esque free form. *is proud of herself*

I guess I should go to bed. I am mucho tired. Peace, bitchez.