Really, Geometry is not happy with a touchy stomach.
Thanks, lactose. Fuck you.
WINTER BALL WINTER BALL OM NOM NOM IT BETTER BE GOOD THIS YEAR.
I appreciate the Pac Man on Public Indecency. I look forward to spending my US History class fiddling with it. That, and fancy pants adventure. Thank you, Abby.
I went to sleep at midnight last night; I'm proud. Usually the insomnia gets to me before that.
My thoughts are not necessarily connected today, though. It earned me a good ol' facepalm from Alexa today...except, not on her face. On my face. Someday I'm going to be walking around with a permanent Alexa palm etched into my forehead.
Speaking of Alexa, the name Felix is really catching on. I'm starting to call her Felix in my head. Except Felix always reminds me of that goddamned black and white clock cat. Reland had one of those when we were itty bitties. I had bad dreams about it and her Betty Boop cookie jar and her creepy fucking marionettes that hid out in the alcove behind her door in the Jones street house.
My stomach just yelled. How very unpleasant.
If you want to skip this whole next rant, go for it. It's just my vicious circle of illogical/motivational school thinks.
I think I've figured out at least part of why geometry doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. My mind doesn't follow that line of logic; it's like trying to ski through wet snow with cold wax. (Believe me, I've tried before and I got the same sort of reaction from myself as when I do geometry.) Meaning, it's hard. It's really, really HARD. I get stuck and cannot seem to get my math feet moving again.
But then I feel like a dumbshit because I remember that I'm growing up and need to start thinking for myself now. It's the most basic of coming-of-age survival instincts, and I suck at it.
What I'm thinking is that school is not my type of education. I would be fine with pulling a Maggi and graduating high school, trying college, quitting if it doesn't work for me, and going and doing what I'm good at and love instead. Compared to geometry, college sounds like a breeze. Thing is, itt would only be a breeze if I do well here, which I currently am not. Sounds like I need to pick up the pace a little bit. No will power.
I'm not really bothered by this. I know that I should be, but I also know that I do not want to be the type of person whose sole driving power in life is school. What happens when you get out of school? You work. I do want to work, but I don't want to work until I kill myself, I won't want to have the type of job that would stress me out that much. I know work is going stressful at sometime, that's the way it is, but I'd prefer to lower the chances. All I have to do to drive me away from that sort of job is to look at my father. But to do this, to ensure a job I love that is not stressful and hellish, I have to work hard now so I'll be able to go to a college a want so I'll have the versatility I naturally need. If any of this makes sense.
So work hard now to do what I want later, essentially.
This is nothing new.
I want to go away and live the poor, happy life I'm destined for.
My mother and I had a conversation about this girl I know who is destined to be a rich, unhappy businesswoman. Haha, my mom told me she "can see me being poor and happy, although she knows I can do whatever I want if I put my mind to it."
I love her.
So anyway.
Might be allergic to marijuana, did I mention that sometime prior to this entry?
Boy, these floods are hardcore.
Oh Dear God, you're beautiful.
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