ammogirl

You know why today was awesome?  Because even though I had to wake up early and write four papers for school, I got an early birthday present from Greg.  What did this birthday present consist of, you ask?  1600 Xbox live points (to download more ROCKBAND!!! songs) and a set of rubber drum tips (to better dominate at ROCKBAND!!!).  Clearly, Greg is awesome. Even better, this present wascompletely timely, as tonight Matt and Leila are hosting Rockbandapalooza, and as always, I plan on winning everything.  Especially with my newly customized drum sticks. Thanks, Greg.

I’m four weeks in to my classes right now, and you would think that it would have only taken one frantically spent Sunday trying to get my papers done to learn my lesson.  Well.  That is not the case.  I’m such a procrastinator!  I’ve always been bad on that count, but it was cancelled out by my severe worrying and anxiety about not getting things done.  Since Zoloft (which I will now refer to as ‘S.Z.’), I leave EVERYTHING until the last minute.  Work, school, cooking, grocery shopping, laundry, sleeping…EVERYTHING!  I can’t say I’m unhappy about it, but it does cause for some self-hate (in the nicest way, of course) when I realize that instead of completing things in a timely manner, I have to churn things out as quickly as possible.  I could argue that this increased pressure forces me to actually concentrate on the task at hand but, hm.  I would say that just results in six of one, half-dozen of the other, as if I did things early, I perhaps wouldn’t have to concentrate as much.  Oh well.

I had a dream last night that I was walking through a high school courtyard with Bobby, my coworker/friend.  I was wearing my letterman’s jacket, with my cheerleading letter displayed prominantly along with my graduation year: 1989.  Bobby was wearing…well, I don’t actually remember, and really, our clothes totally aren’t important.  Anyway, this highschool boy was walking parallel to us, and at one point spoke to Bobby, yelling out some random question.  After Bobby answered him, and they had a laugh, the boy then said, “What grade are you in, anyway?  Why is your MOM walking you to school?”

I was instant sadface, all ‘aw.’ but we did get a laugh out of it after Bobby corrected him, because it was funny, after all.  But it’s coincidental, having a dream about being considered old three days before my birthday.  I always say turning 27 was much, much harder for me than turning 30, and I’m hoping 37 is not the same.  Still, regardless of how I feel, 37 is almost 40, no matter what.  Sigh.  I think I will have a mid-life crisis now.

Tschuss!