YOU'VE GOT TO FUCKING RELAX!!!

Perhaps I really am a prude. I am awfully uptight. I used to think I was simply being a caring person prone to an unusual amount of worry. I’m wound so tight most of the time and take so many things so seriously; I do come off as a prude a lot of the time. For example, today in my English class we turned in our first big research papers. I got so carried away with the actual writing of the paper that I allowed a number of procedural concerns fall by the wayside…like the MLA citations. Sure I did them, but grudgingly. Chicago and APA are far superior in my opinion. I’m sure I’m overcompensating for something… And I’m digressing.

What’s chafing my ass is our next assignment. Because our class has devolved into more of a social gathering than an actual class, the cheese has fallen of Octavia’s professional cracker. (Who is to say it was there to begin with?) Our next paper is yet another argumentative paper, only this one has to be based entirely on disreputable sources. And while I can see the sense in such an exercise, I can’t help but feel that this exercise in satire will be lost on my fellow students. Shit. I doubt many of them know what satire is. My point is that this assignment may confuse some people. At the very least it may plant the idea in their head that it may be ok to cite the Onion as an authority on something other than satire. No, the irony does not escape me. I’d just rather not be in the situation that allows it to exist.

So what’s the deal here? I wasn’t always like this. We all have our days, I guess. Cold comfort, that. I think I am having one of those days, today. I worry too much.

After class, I came home to eat, study, and relax a bit. Or perhaps try to relax. Anyway, I was reading my assignment for American Intellectual History and found I wasn’t really reading, but thinking about Jen and what’s going on between us. (I haven’t a fucking clue by the way. Things have been kinda icy after Friday.) So, of course I started to worry. Then I realized I have a ton of reading to do for Wednesday, and I started to worry about that. And suddenly I was struck with the stony cold of lonesome. I wanted to be around people I trusted, people I love.

But that didn’t happen.

I wound up at Stonecup, half hoping Jen would be working tonight (She wasn’t…I’m such a fucking woman.), the other half hoping some espresso would help me focus on my reading. I had my assigned reading with me and Run With the Horsemen by Ferrol Sams to break the routine. I managed to get an assigned chapter out of the way and popped open Sams and was having a gay ol’ time. Jesus I love his writing. And wouldn’t you know it? People started talking to me about books.

You guys know me. Normally I don’t mind talking to people. But today was different. I was lonely and wanted to be alone. That’s some emotional bullshit, my friends. I didn’t really feel like talking, and I didn’t really feel like reading either. I wanted to be around people, but not to interact with them. I worry too much. This was about the time Jesse called to see if I wanted to see a movie with him, but I’m just having one of those days. Normally, I’d go, but not today. It’s been a strange fucking day, filled with even stranger and yet familiar feelings.

I worry too much.