Welp. My throat is feeling funky (Texas + allergies), hope I’m not getting sick or anything. We have to sing in Wharton tomorrow and I want to my best for the Czech community; we are singing pieces by Czech composers, some of which are in Czech, after all. I’m excited but hope I’ll be better in the morning!
I think 1:18 AM EST is too late in the evening for my father to be griping at me about the low pay and hours I’d be getting if I moved to Texas.
Crap, I said “if.”
Sigh.
I want to. I know everyone’s raising valid points.
But I’ve always said that I’d rather be miserable living paycheck to paycheck rather than being miserable here—but really?
We’ll see, I suppose.
So since my body’s been rather overwhelmed from the week and I’ve not have enough rest and I’m quite frazzled, I think I’m just going to lie in bed and watch some movies that I haven’t seen (somehow!). It’s a toss-up between…
… Which to choose?
So you know how my parents and I went to see Andre Rieu in concert? Well, I must have been ridiculously sleepy afterward, because apparently I’d somehow completely forgotten to fill the left side of my contact lens container with solution.
Whaaaaaat. There was a little bit in there, but not really. I’m trying to force myself to believe that I can use it and not cause myself permanent eye damage (note: I probably have, I can attest to the burning in my eyes, ah, the burning.)
So I’m currently very upset with myself because I leave for New York in TWO DAYS and wanted the trip to go without a hitch and my eyesight is very important to me and just, augh, fuck. (My eyesight is very, very bad. Most of you know this. Let’s say I’m in the negative double-digits. Okay?)
I mean, there’s a lot to be seen. And my eye being irritated is something I find a tad unnecessary; oh, not to mention my left eye is my good eye, and my right one is nowhere near as good. Hardly. [Take, for example, that I could feasibly drive with my right-eye shut, but would never dare to do so the other way around. See? (HAH)]
I’ll be seeing snow for the first time. Going to the Poconos. Watching Video Games Live. Watching (hopefully) the ball drop on New Year’s Eve.
But this all will be quite literally marred by my eyes. Which is all my fault.
And oh, I have custom-made lenses, my eyes are that bad. Mm-hmm. As in, no, I don’t have another pair because I don’t have disposable ones. I wish I did. I really, really do. And there’s no way I can obtain another pair unless it’s through my doctor, but it’s Christmas, and I’m leaving, so.
I know there’s nothing I can do now. But I’m just really upset with myself.
Oh. Right. The way I found out was because we had a party last night, and God help me, yes, I would risk eye damage to fend off my parents’ yelling at me for what I did. It’s just something I don’t need. Yes, very skewed priorities. It’s just that I already know the mistake I made, am hard enough on myself, definitely don’t need them adding to it.
Yes, I could wear my glasses. But forgive me for being vain and superficial for once and saying that I just wanted to look nice and possibly attractive on my trip.
Yeah, getting there…
Planning 25 different activities is a pain rather tedious.
Yes, I know I am a teacher (still so weird to say), and I just told my mom about how I will probably quit in June or July (they want to do a little road trip but our school is year-round) since I want to move to another country or perhaps join the Peace Corps
but we’ll see what happens.
PS. I think I’ll be dressing up for Halloween for the third day in a row. Awesome!
(Have to get this done first…)
Mother of pearl.
I think you just appeared on my Dashboard.
I think I’m past the point of wondering, “What are the chances that would happen?”
For me, things like that are just a given.
My stomach is rolling.
I try to move on from you, knowing with all practicality that you’re over in Oregon (and apparently Disneyland) and that there is no point still caring, but then this happens, and what in the hell am I supposed to do, with such a reminder?
It’s just that yes, I still care for some reason (I’d rather not, believe me, it’d make my life easier but then that wouldn’t be living life… Then again, as I’ve said, I’m twenty-four and still haven’t lived) even though I know you probably don’t give a rat’s ass about me.
Dammit.
Anyone else would be clear gone and over and just be living their lives.
