» Ten and two.
Ten and two.
Posted on February 23rd, 2005 in Uncategorized

It’s four o’clock in the morning and I’m taking an extended break from cramming for my history midterm. I’ve been drinking hot tea all night trying to stay awake, but I’m convinced that drinking an excessive amount of Coke over the years has made me immune to the stimulating effects of caffeine. My mom drinks coffee at three in the morning and still manages to fall asleep directly afterwards. Maybe it’s hereditary. I feel like I’m getting sick… which is very likely, because I always get sick before I’m about to do something fun. And in the cold. Like go snowboarding with my friends in Big Bear. I keep sneezing and my left eye is all itchy and watery. My dad was sick and my sister was sick and Gerald and Meehchelle are sick. It was bound to happen. I may be immune to stimulants, but I ALWAYS get sick whenever someone within a five-mile radius of me is sick. Plus it’s been raining like crazy in San Diego. The reservoir down the street from my house is overflowing. I remember when it didn’t rain for like a year or two straight and you couldn’t even see the reservoir because it had dried up. I usually ♥ the rain, but this is madness. I drive like 40MPH on the freeway in the rain. People are zooming past me at like 70MPH and I just keep my hands on ten and two and shake my head at their senselessness. After spinning out on the freeway in the pouring rain, I’ve been skerd to drive during even the slightest inclination of dampness. I’m a terrible California driver whose great fear is dying in a horrific car accident. Anyway, I had a bad day today. I think I’m just letting my monetary problems get to me. My second job only gives me part-time shifts on the weekends. My school schedule during the week makes it impossible for my other job to give me enough hours in between my classes. I have three bills a month that are automatically debited from my checking account, so it’s not like I could SKIP a payment, even if I wanted to. My boyfriend doesn’t get enough hours at his job either, so we’re seriously the most poverty-stricken couple EVER. When it’s REALLY bad, we combine our money just so we could take out a twenty at the ATM! Gah. It’s like I’m a struggling artist already. Except I’m not even working as an artist yet. I’m just STRUGGLING. I refuse to ask my parents to help me, because my dad got me out of the hole during the great credit card fiasco of 2000 when I max’d out four credit cards and owed over $2,000. I had just turned eighteen and went a little crazy. I see how happy my parents are about my sister being this über successful auditor travelling around the country, and I would hate to disappoint them again. Pammie knows about my situation and said she would help me out, but I hate borrowing money from her and proving my dad right. There are far less things I hate more than my dad being right about me.

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