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July 30, 2003

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I'm suddenly in the mood to clean things. If you knew me in person, you'd probably understand that whenever I get angry or upset, I can usually be found either baking something in the kitchen, or rearranging the layout of my bedroom with this solemn fury. But today I'm not either of those things, so I don't have a clue as to why last night I went back to Target about bought another under the bed storage box (Because the first one definitely wasn't enough) in order to tackle the load of crap that exists under my queen sized mattress.

Believe me, we're talking about a lot of crap. The God forsaken motherload, if you will. I have this weird tendency to keep just about every slip of paper, lint, and button that I've ever come in conctact with. Don't ask me why, I still haven't figured it out myself.

Anyway, when I was foraging about under my bed, I came across the drafts for the "book" Mr. Hayward had us write for his creative writing class. Every time I dig it out from under the piles of old newspapers and notebooks, I usually toss it to the side, too annoyed or busy to bother reading it again. But last night I made myself flip through the loose pages and critique just how great of a writer I really thought I was.

It really wasn't pretty. I can't believe I was proud of writing any of that stuff in there... Well, there were some high points on a few pages, but most of it was just some high-faluetin, teenage angst crap, which is usually sappy, dull, and annoying. I was the full out queen of bottled up teenage angst, which is ironically enough, the one thing that I can't stand right about now. I think I used the word "blood" in about three or four entries, thinking that maybe it would spice up the whole book as whole. Three years later, it really doesn't have that same effect.

Most of those entries were written because I was so caught up with the whole Matt and Brent tryst to think about anything else. "Consumed" would probably be a much better word.

I want to throw that book away... I want to burn it and then bury it where no one else is ever going to find it, except maybe two thousand years from now when they can't read English anymore. Isn't it funny that I could put myself on such a pedestal and then bring myself down just as easily?

Maybe I really have grown up.

Today's Soundtrack: "Love at First Sight," Mary J. Blige

Best Part of the Day: Not having to go to work until noon

Worst Part of the Day: Not being about to leave work until 8

posted at 8:07 a.m.

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