I just don’t understand the need of people to know everything that is going on in other people’s lives. Hiding behind the guise of “interest” and “friendship” lies a gossip, a nosy person and a snoop. When people find things out, they question in surprise that I was capable of making such a decision without them knowing about it. Why does it matter to them what I do? I certainly wasn’t going to make any plans with them anyway. The way some people act – or just ARE – dumbfounds me at times.

Anyway.

The weekend was ok, I guess. Sometimes, I feel like a mandatory appointment that people keep out of obligation rather than out of want or desire. I could be talking out of my ass too.

I fear that my next therapy session is going to be a fucking doozy. How do I know? Judging from the headache I’ve had for a few days now and the fact that I’m starting to sleep hours longer than normal, it’s not boding well for my mental health right now. Considering the disaster I’m making with my personal relationships lately, I’m not surprised. Good thing I have the day off, that’s all I’m saying.

Maybe I just need to enter a convent or volunteer for the Army or become a soap-opera actress or go into the Peace Corps or have a lobotomy or train to become a ninja in China.

(Are there Chinese Ninjas?)

Whatever the case, I don’t want to be me or have this life right now. I really don’t.

Geh. Enough with the pity party! I didn’t start this entry out to be such, I was totally going to complain about popular culture and such. So I’m going to stop now, while I’m way behind.

Random musing: If I ever get a camera, I’m going to be a picture taking muthafucka. I miss it.