*do you remember the p*lace and riley and stacey? 2002-08-28 4:07 p.m.*

so yeah, i never called my dad. which i guess was for the best, because by the time i got the hospital and bed number, he was no longer there. no, instead, he had been committed. don't know where, or even exactly why. i feel like i should feel something, but i've really just been going through my life with that same feeling of vague discomfort, guilt, and anger that comes when i think of my dad.

meanwhile, i've been working rushweek and the bookstore, which is not so much fun, but i need money, and i'm not calling people while they're asleep. i'm taking 2 classes, avoiding talking to michalson because i feel like i big thesis-slacker dork. i've already had an appointment at parkview, due to something i, surprisingly, don't want to talk about. my kitten is starting to get more comfortable which means she is more comfortable with wrecking stuff. just now though, she was looking out the window and when she turned to me her pupils were almost gone. i was going to go to the pub tonight, but i'm feeling mildly crappy, and just in general too busy to want to go somewhere directly after work. i've got wall tapes to make (my wall is friday. be there!), and crime and punishment to read. life is sort of cozy, a little sad, but yeah, mostly cozy.

*listening to: *
<<< | >>>

*<<<<<* *<<* *<* | *>* *>>* *>>>>>*
*random* *list*