Oooo-wee. I'm not only wearing my crabby pants today, I'm ROCKIN' the crabby pants.
I'm pulling another "I'm a day ahead of myself"... yesterday I woke up thinking it was Thursday, and today I woke up thinking it was Friday. I still feel like it's Friday. I kinda just need it to be Friday.
Last night was rough. Tears and bad dreams all around... not only because of my gramps, but everything else in my life... money... I've made pathetic progress with my choreography... I'm second-guessing my ideas for choreography... loneliness... the fact that I have zero junk food in the apartment... or wine... yes, I officially got bitch-slapped by Aunt Flo yesterday, so it's been a rockin' good time the last 36 hours lemmetellya. And counting. Schmeh.
Oh, and get this... all the symptoms of Aunt Flo, but no actual period. Oh, she's here, that beyotch is around... but not. It's phantom Aunt Flo. This is the second month in a row, and it's happened sporadically before... my doc tells me this is normal because of how active I am. Great. I think that if I'm going to have all the lovely symptoms, there should be something to show for it... OR, if I'm going to skip a period, let me just skip out on all the other BS and make it a package deal. Yes?!? No? Okay.
I just want Monday to be here so we can have Grandpa's funeral and start the closure process. I want school to start so I can throw myself into projects and get out of my crazy li'l head. I just want this week to be over!!
Where is the girl who found such confidence and determination and faith in Chicago??? WHERE?