My Thirty-ninth Post

I feel like blogging. There's nothing to stop me. And I have nothing better to do. That last sentence was a lie. Estoy una mentirosa. I went to DI yesterday. It was not a fruitful trip. I am sad. We lost the bookshelf in our living room last week, and the whole room looks bare without it. I wish we had a shelf. But there's nothing I can do. Now there are a bunch of books piled up in the corner. They look sad and disused. I am an extremely talented liar when I want to be. I don't often want to be. I shaved my legs this morning. Happiness ensues.

My Thirty-eighth Post

School starts next week. I am unsure about so many things.

I have a crush on a boy. This is not uncommon.

I might see my brother tomorrow. And meet his fiancee.

H comes back today. C is gone for the weekend.

Tuesday. Only on Tuesdays.

Today is Thursday. Tomorrow is not.

My Thirty-seventh Post

Life will be good soon. I know it will. But right now, I'm just flanked on all sides by guilt for all the things I know I should be doing that aren't getting done. And it's about to hit the fan. If I don't do everything by tomorrow, things are just going to suck. So I guess that leaves me with one obvious choice: start working.

You know, I do this to myself all the time. I commit to doing something, and then I put it off time and time again. Then, when it finally comes down to the line, I give in and get to work. If I would just buckle down and do it right at first, I wouldn't have this enormous burden of guilt and self loathing. Hopefully I will be able to recognize these situations before I actually become ensnared once more. Gotta have faith in the future, right?

My Thirty-sixth Post

Man. I started this post on Monday, but I never finished it. Now I want to blog about something else, but I feel obligated to post this first since it's been waiting so patiently. *Sigh.* Fine.

So yesterday was the social highlight of the summer for me. Not because anything particularly exciting happened, just because I actually went to and participated in things. I gave a talk in Sacrament meeting, so a lot of people talked to me who normally wouldn't have. At one point, I wandered over to my roommate who was talking to some people, and one of them said something to me. I hadn't really been listening to what they were saying, so I just smiled and nodded politely. When I got home from church, I started poking around in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make for dinner, when my roommate, C, reminded me that we were going to have dinner with the people she'd been talking to. I was surprised, but I went along anyway, seeing as how I didn't have anythign better to do. It was way fun, and I talked to several people in my ward that I'd never met before (this is not that uncommon, since I'm a social recluse and never talk to anyone).

C and I had also signed up for interviews with the Relief Society presidency that evening, so we went and did that after the dinner.

We were on our way home when my visiting teaching supervisor stopped and asked me if I'd done my VT yet. I was a little surprised, seeing as how we aren't even halfway through August yet. She explained that, because of the end of the term, the Stake wanted all of the VT done by that evening. My companion has been out of town for a while, so I asked C to go with me, and I dashed off to make an appointment. I only have one girl right now (the other one got married recently), and I had never visited with her because I was only recently assigned to her. She was way awesome and I really enjoyed chatting with her. She even forgave me for my impromptu lesson.

When we left her apartment, we walked smack into dessert night, so we hung around and visited (instead of my typical reaction, which would be to run and hide as quickly as possible). I finally went back to my apartment, only to be invited to play cards by the girls up stairs. So I went and played.

Now this may not sound all that exciting for any of you, but for me, this was exceptionally social behavior. Wahoo!

My Thirty-fifth Post

So, it's 5:15 am, and surprise, surprise, I'm NOT complaining about having to get up early for work. Actually, I haven't even been to sleep yet. I suppose I'm tired, but it's not that "my-eyelids-are-so-heavy-I-don't-think-I-can-hold-them-up-for-one- more-second" tired. It's more like that "I-thought-it-was-only-two-am-but-when-I-looked-at-the-clock-it-was- already-five" tired. Which basically means that although I probably should not be making any life altering decisions right now, I feel like I can. Which is probably a bad thing. What is it they say about how having very little sleep is almost as bad as being drunk? I can never remember, but I'm sure I could prove that statement right now. Bring on the sobriety tests; I'm drunk as a loon.

Oookay. No more blogging while I'm "drunk." In case anyone was interested, I stayed up all night in order to watch the entire first season of Veronica Mars. I got it in the mail on Monday night after work (probably around 10 pm), and since then I have watched it in its entirety. Which means in the last 31 hours, I have watched 22 hour-long episodes of this show. And I've worked for about 7 of those hours. So that leaves... 3 hours of sleep since I woke up 48 hours ago (Monday morning). Smart. Very smart. But what else is summer for?

My Thirty-fourth Post

It's 5 am, and I have to be at work in half an hour. I had to work late last night, and I didn't go to bed until about 2 am. Let me do the math for you... that's 3 hours of sleep. I'm sitting here in front of my computer having violent hiccoughs. This is because life is not fair. Don't ever think otherwise.