I am probably the most pleasantly hung-over person you'll ever meet. Yesterday I was all edges - need fights, need sex, need to lose control. Well, I lost control and smoothed my edges out with a diamond file and now. Now I'm worn out and sore and ehh. A lot of Ehh. And I know I smell funny. I'm wearing Pink's shorts and a two-day-old shirt (orange) and I feel like a a whole lotta college student-slash-sorority girl. And I don't fucking need to freak so much out about money - which isn't true, but I want to order a copy of Tiger! Tiger! and a Qdoba brownie.
And I feel sick to my stomach and I've fucked up most things in my life and I want to...achieve momentum. That would be the story I wrote lately that got torn up in workshop but which I still love - particularly the title. oooh. I want Taco Bell. Huh. An hour left of this class and I've achieved unmotivated senior level. I do show up (though it's a challenge every T/R) but work on something else every time.
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