Frustration to an absurd degree.

That's where I am. I understand the fact that things can't all be perfect all the time. I was doing great. Things were going great. And I was an imbecile to think that Satan wouldn't get in the way of that and kill my high.

Because, you know, he did. Damn him to Hell.

I can say that. Because he's Satan.

I think what's really getting to me is that I just don't have time. For anything. Full time student with a "part time" job [part time my-], just moved [haven't unpacked a lick], and I'm just tired. Tired of making mistakes at work, tired of all of the stuff I have to remember to do for classes because there are 23,435 on-line components I have to remember about... I forget so much because I have SO MUCH on my mind. It's a terrifying place to be right now, my mind. Not that it always hasn't been, but now the little dudes that run around in there and control everything are drowning in the tears I don't have time to cry, thus causing everything to short circuit. It's wet and electric. And salty. Tears are salty.

And can I just say that I miss my mom? Not many girls are lucky enough to have the kind of relationship with their mom like I do with mine. She's one of my best friends. I can talk to her about anything. And I do. But she's so far away now, and sometimes phone calls aren't as good as hugs. What am I talking about... it's NEVER as good as hugs.

I'd rather not discuss the problems I've been having on Tuesday nights. Let's just say I'm making an appointment with my doctor sometime SOON to up my dosage on my xanax. And get something for my acid reflux, although I'm pretty sure it's flaring up lately because of my stress. That won't be going away anytime soon, so I might as well get a prescription. I'd continue to chug Maalox, but it doesn't help and tastes like nasty.

Time to work on Psychology notes. And diagnose myself.