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I suck at biffling. And lifing.

So Parker sent me a super concerned email last night. Apparently I've been really letting him down lately. Can't say I'm too surprised.

Let's face it: I've been anxious/depressed for at least 2 or 3 weeks now. I'm not even sure why. Maybe because it's February. Maybe it's those goddamnedfuckingshitlicking loans. Maybe it's having to look for another job. Again. Maybe it's feeling like a useless sack of--

{breathe, breathe...}

I can't say I'm too happy with myself either. I've been giving over to 'self-will' so much lately, it's shameful. Naturally, I'm feeling more than a little guilty and stupid and weak, but--as usual--I'm much too prideful to dare admit it or ask for help. It's a fun position to wedge oneself into, I can tell ya that.

One of the tricky, cruel things about self-will is how selfish it is. (Haha! See how clever that was!? Oy.) I tend to hurt the people I love and who love me. Like Parker. Or my parents. We'll stick to Parker for this post, though; they're a whole series of posts to themselves.

SO, to my one and only biffle--I'm sorry Parker Boo :\ We'll do aweseome saucesomes soon--maybe even today. Who knows. But, please, be patient with me; I love you, too.

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Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.

I could do worse.

Lord knows I really want to rant right now; I've been angrier, sure, and I've felt more hurt, but the temptation is there to tear into this guy. But I'm supposed to be a grown up. He's supposed to be my friend--and I do care about that. I'm not supposed to even be taking these things so seriously anymore. So why the fuck am I? So I was dating a guy recently; we had four dates. I thought we were really starting to click. I'll admit it--I'd even begun to like the guy. Not quite like-like him, but there was a definite fondness growing. As I was learning more about him, I was liking what I learned more and more. We seemed to have chemistry, too. It was pretty nice how I could talk about smart stuff with him without either a) feeling like I was supposed to be talking down to him or b) feeling like he had to challenge me to a contest of who was the smartest fuck in the room. It was natural, intelligent, fun conversation. And that was really cool. I was defin...