(no subject)

I'm getting better. I hate, though, that it is in the recovery stages of being sick that you really start to cough up a storm. I am missing school again today, because I only had one class and my professor advised me to rest. I will be going to work, though, where there has been a great drama in my absence. Basically, Mike quit. Do I think it is permanent? No. He'll probably be there when I get there today. But still, this is a very tense thing. I was on the phone for a good part of the night with Randy and Cheri trying to smooth things over because both of them are really pissed at Mike and I think I know why Mike's upset. Anyhow I'm not going to go into it, but things will be weird at work for a while.

Right now I am ticked. Our AC has been broken for about a month and a half now. Zsa-Zsa had tried to put in a work order but for some reason he didn't have the information he needed. Andy was then supposed to take care of it. I don't know how long Funkhouser has known there's been a problem, but I think it's been a while. Even if they only knew since this morning, is it not ridiculous for them to charge us $26.50/hour to have it fixed? Andy says that is the price. I didn't agree to that! In fact, I'm pretty sure it's in our lease agreement that we don't owe for general maintenance. Doesn't that sound right? I mean, isn't the owner responsible for repairs? And thanks for waiting until the end of the fucking heat wave! Bottom line: I don't want to pay them squat! When I complained about it to Andy, he was just like, "Well, I'm not going to argue with them about it...." Hey! It's my money, too! I'll argue, I don't let people walk all over me - I mean, did you or did you not let them know about this a month ago? "Well...." Argh. I was so miserably uncomfortable the last three days, waking up in absolute pools of my own sweat, even with a fan blowing on me. If anything, someone owes me clean sheets. I'm just working myself up here. I'm going to stop. I'm too sick to be getting all crazy now. Anyhow. I think I'll take a nap.

Peace.

Don't read this unless you hate me, really

Sometimes I think: Today must be the worst day of my life. Then I remember two things. 1. I'm bipolar, I need to take care of that. 2. No, March 20th, 2003 was definitely the worst day of my life. It continued into that weekend. March 20th was a Thursday, but it lasted until the next month. I'll never forget that. I'm not going to write about it here though. It is hard to look at myself and say, you don't actually feel awful, your brain just wants you to because you're messed up. I mean, essentially, that's what is going on, but when I'm in these moods, and something tips me off and gives me a reason to embrace it, it's not like there's a better reason not to. I don't care if that makes sense to anyone else. I get it. It's like, I cry all the time. But I'm not a crybaby. There are just lots of things going on that bother me. But my life really isn't that bad. I have plenty of money, friends, intelligence...so am I a crybaby? No...I have legitimate reasons...but is my life really that hard? Maybe sometimes. It's hard even for me to think...I mean I've always been warm and surrounded by people who love me...except on March 20...but that's just one time...I mean I have everything I need and could possibly want. I'm not upset by not getting what I want. And yet I don't want to blame my emotional outbursts on chemicals that make no sense? In the words of Julie Murphy-Wells, I don't think I know me as well as I thought I did.