let me through

I have been in a foul mood this evening.  I don’t really know why, but I’ve been reacting very fiercely to most everything in my life.  Here is a list of things that have been pissing me off:


1. The costumes from Midsummer.

2. The actions of my mum’s director (who is an idiot).

3. Anything having to do with 3/4s of the Journeys scripts.

4. Anything having to do with the director I had for Full Monty.

5. Most of the actresses in the department.

6. My roommate touching my things.


Now a big part of most of these things is the fact that I’m tired and not packed, even though I need to be.  And when I’m tired and not packed, even though I need to be, my usually mild OCD kicks in and I am in desperate need of something to control.  This is where the ‘touching my things’ thing comes in, but more on that in a second.  The more I think about the fact that I didn’t get in to Journeys, the more it bothers me.  Especially now that so many of the scripts are bad.  BAD.  I mean, mine wasn’t great or anything, but it was at least directable.  That’s kind of a good thing for a play to be.

I’ve noticed that nothing drives me crazier when I am already feeling insecure and self-conscious than when other people touch my stuff without permission.  This could be anything from moving my laundry out of the dryer to unplugging my mouse to making out with people whom I have strong relationships with.  It really, really gets to me.  And that sounds really creepy and more than a little manic, but it honestly gets to me like none other.  I want to start cutting bitches.  This is why I have a deep amount of concern for my mental well-being.  

Chelsea’s gotten really bad about this.  More specifically, Chelsea’s boyfriend has gotten really bad about this.  He has this terrible habit of stacking all of his overnight shit on my side of the sink.  This wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that he builds a wall of his crap in front of the tiny back corner where I keep my toothbrush and contact lense case.  So, effectively, I cannot get to my things.  So I usually slam his stuff onto Chelsea’s side of the sink in hopes that he’ll wake up and I’ll get to confront him about it (I am never keener for a fight than when it’s late and I get home and can’t swiftly get my contacts out.  I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL THEN).  Of course, Matt sleeps like the dead, so this confrontation will never, ever happen.  Damn.

Man.  I want to pick a fight.  This is comically ridiculous.

I’m going to spend all of tomorrow night bitching with Marina.  And I’m going to spend Friday morning with Jenn and Friday afternoon with friends from home and hopefully do something fun with Randy once he gets back from New York.  And I’m not going to be in Carbondale.  And that is the sweetest thought I have had in a very, very long time.

I need to get out of here.  This town is killing me.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. erik
    Oct 17, 2008 @ 23:46:25

    here’s a little diversion that always cheers me up when i’m feeling blue:



  2. Sneemus
    Oct 20, 2008 @ 23:41:50




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