TMI? FU.

I think I'm cute and organized sometimes. Shannon bought me little spice jars for Christmas, and I put all of my pills in there. All of the whites and shiny fish oil ones and ones that make you sleep and ones that make you hyper.

Of course, they don't have any labels. I'll remember what they are, I said one December evening.

Last night I went to take a laxative (I know, I know that's gross) but I ended up taking a sleeping pill. So goes the entire night, and so goes today. Exhaustion, stomach-ness that involves lots of weird grumbling sounds.

I haven't had a lick of caffiene today. I had a cookie for lunch, and now I feel fat, and the last thing I want to do is go to the gym, even though that's what I should be doing, and today I had a weird mix of a million things to do and nothing to do, and then, right before class started 8th hour, I had a ridiculous almost-anxiety attack and I had to try and hide it. Which was a fucking nightmare. Absolutely a nightmare. Have you ever had to do that? Literally hold your hand down with another hand to prevent yourself from doing something insane, like run out of the classroom and out the door downstairs for some air. Have you ever had to dig your fingernails into your palm, making those embossed moon shapes in your skin. And what if it's worse next time? And where did this anxiety even come from? What's happening, here.

So, I'm not going to the gym today, and I hate myself for it, like I really, really hate myself, but I also hate the bitter cold wind, and it's not fair after such an amazing, warm weekend. I am so fucking sick of winter I want to die, and sure that's insane because spring is right around the corner, but fucking seriously, until I can run outside without getting frost bite, I am going to suck at everything I do.

Happy Monday, then, I'm tired and can't poop.