Daily Diary

So today was my first day back to school after having a week off for spring break. Since I stayed up until one last night messing about on the internet in denial, I was threatening to dismantle my alarm clock when it woke me at eight. I was hoping to sleep until nine, at least, but my clock clearly got possessed since I never set my alarm. Scary thought, that. I don't want to keep waking up at eight every morning when my classes don't start until eleven or twelve thirty, depending on the day.

It wasn't as strange as I thought it would be, going to class, but I'm just happy that I don't have eight-o-clock classes this go 'round. I did have a quiz first thing in Chemistry, though; I had completely forgotten about it, but I missed one question, so I remembered more than I thought. My teacher did tell us we have a test on Wednesday, though, so now I actually have to study again... ugh. I liked being lazy this past week. I could stay up as late as I want, wake up whenever I want, do whatever I want, wear whatever I want. Then again, I didn't really do that... my mother brought me on as her assistant for work Tuesday, and Wednesday I got dehydrated and fainted during church. That was.... not one my finer moments. I don't think I'm going to be able to face them for a while, even if I did have the time and resources to drive back home and go.

However, my writing muse seems to have vanished. I've been trying to coax her back for days now, but every time I open up Word, she scuttles away and refuses to come back. It's frustrating, because writing is how I cope with things, but it seems inspiration and reality are all conspiring against me right now. I have a story due in a week, and I barely have half written; I'm not happy about it. Sometimes I wonder if I have inherited my father's ADD; it certainly explains how easily distracted I am. True, I can buckle down and study for a few hours, but only by sheer force of will and extreme determination. And even then I can only go about four hours. Five years ago I could easily study all day if I wanted to. My attention spans seems to have grown worse as I've grown older. Isn't is supposed to improve? I don't want to act like a five year old when I'm thirty-something, thanks. My dad is bad enough as it is.

Speaking of my dad...

I really don't understand that man. Maybe it's because I'm so much like my mother, but we never see eye-to-eye. My mother is a saint for putting up with him for all these years, but mostly I just want to get out. If it weren't for my mom or my job, I'd be living on campus full-time. Ever since my birthday when I turned seventeen, I have never trusted one thing he says and will never spend more time than I have to with him. Trust me, if you knew what had happened.... well. Maybe some other time.

Lets just say that what he did was unforgivable, ruined our family, and has put my mother through hell more times than I can count on one hand.

And, being a big Mommy's girl, I can't forgive him for it.

Anyway, despite the rather rude wake-up call, my day was relatively laid-back. I found out I got a 96 on my history test, which was nice, and had lunch with a friend I haven't talked to in a while, which was just as nice. I later found out that I dropped ketchup on my skirt sometime during that lunch which wasn't nice, but there's not much a sink with hot water can't do if I catch it quick enough. The business meeting was also really short, and it was casual, so that was a bonus. Normally we finish around 7:45-8:00, but this time it lasted only an hour so I have more times to do 'me' things. And study. But I'm eying my book with distaste right now, so I may start on it an hour after I finish posting this or something. No promises.  Yes, I know I have to study, but I don't want to.

ADD, I swear I have it.

That's pretty much it for today. I'm feeling a bit drained (curse you, alarm clock!), so I really don't want to write more. I would have taken a quick trip to Starbucks (it's right around the corner from my dorm), but I forgot my wallet and it was closed by the time I got back to my room anyway. Shoot. No frappuccino for me, tonight. Though, maybe that's a good thing, because ADD and coffee don't really mix.

But it might bring my muse back. In which case, I shouldn't have forgotten my wallet!

Having misplaced my actual diary, I have decided to create an online one. Whether or not I'll be able to uphold my promise to myself to actually post everyday remains to be seen; but it is worth a try.

I mostly started keeping a diary because it helped me de-stress, but soon became a way to chronicle my silly teenage crushes, memories of a boyfriend who didn't turn out to be who I expected him to, and petty family feuds. While there were many serious issues in those pages as well, it was mostly a record of my mistakes and what to look out for in the future. Now, older and wiser (but still as naive, if my mother is to be believed), I shall try to refrain from giggling like a schoolgirl over the cute boy who sits next to me in class.

No promises, though.

Because really, I'm a girl, and like all members of my gender, I don't always mean what I say. We like double meanings, we females, and automatically assume males can read our minds. If you think about it, it's like a test; we're testing the boys to see if they can understand us, not to frustrate or confuse them, but because we want to see if they are worth it. A guy who really likes a girl will pick up on these hints and try to do something with them, and more importantly remember them. If a boy doesn't put forth the effort in keeping us happy and knowing what we like, what's the point of staying with them? All we really need is a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, and a hand to hold.

Then again, seeing as how *I* have yet to understand males, I may see where they are coming from.