|Current mood:|| worried|
|Current music:||angsty emo radio shit|
I haven't gone to see her yet.
Each time there has been some reason for me to stay. I was asleep, and then I cooked dinner, and then I had to wait for a friend to drop something off, and this time, I have to wait for my uncle, who has gone camping and doesn’t know yet, to call.
This is fucking exhausting.
I haven't bothered to dress. I haven't bothered to flip my calendars to July. I haven't bothered to shower. I have just sat here pissed off by the inadequate distractions. I play with my schedule for the Spring- swap existentialism for the life and times of Socrates. I smoke, make more tea, smoke again.
I want to sleep, but last night I stared through my bug-net out through the sky-light for hours before I finally drifted off. This morning I woke easily but hardly saw a reason for emerging from bed.
I wrote two of my friends emails because they had written me, but I imagine the "my grandmother is really sick and about to die" was a little too depressing for them.
I'm sinking quickly.
They're back. I should go.