Inside This Mind.

05.02.2005 * 9:38 a.m.
eek. week 6.

I can't justify writing in here right now on account of the fact that I need to be practicing writing in a foreign language with my extremely limited vocabulary for the midterm that I have at eleven. (That is one long sentence. Thank you, thank you.) I will tell you all that my weekend was good, I am tired, I dislike Mondays for no real reason other than the fact that they are Mondays, and I'm ridiculously happy. More to come later this week...

04.28.2005 * 11:31 p.m.
I've fully intended to for a long time, I'm just slow at getting started.

You know what? I don't have a plan. Okay. You know what I did when I got home tonight? I updated my resume. Super. You know what else? I might finally make use of the Counseling and Career Services office on campus. I've considered it all year but have yet to go to them for guidance and job listings. Fine. I could talk to the people at the ARC about the lab animal technician position that will be opening when Randy leaves (because they adore me there) but I really don't know if I can or want to stay in Santa Barbara. I think I need a change of venue. Fine. I fully intend to look online, to sign up for an account on monster.com (when I'm a bit more coherent than at present), to search out some jobs or internships in exciting places that would make me happy. Fine. I'm even going to consider jobs and living in not so exciting places for reasons that are bigger than my own immediate gratification. Sure. Financially, I still don't know about a mission as an option, but it's in the back of my mind. Okay. But I don't want to put off the idea of grad school. I don't want to put off getting some sort of degree that will make me feel more stable than this. I don't want to put off paying back my loans, because, for me, stresses due to money are the worst kind of stresses. And I do want to avoid having a heartattack at the age of twenty-five, thank you very much.
I know the steps that I should be taking. I realize completely that the ball is in my court and that no one is going to help me if I don't help myself, if I don't take the initiative. Fine. I also know exactly what it is that I am not doing, and I know that it is the one thing that matters most. Oddly, what should be easiest, what should be simple second nature to me is the hardest part.

You kick me in the butt when I need it most. You tell me all the things that I hear inside my head but force myself to ignore. You are the voice of reason when everything I know is cloudy. I love and hate that you are always honest and blunt. But mostly, I love and hate the way that you are always so right. How do you know me so well? How do you scratch my soul open and leave it bleeding and exposed so that I am forced to examine the wounds and treat myself? Nobody else can get to me quite like you can.

Fine. I'll do what I need to do.