Killmekillmekillmekillmekillmekillmekillme
Thursday, 11/25/04 - 10:15 pm.

Today I discovered I have to make 40 times the work I've done so far on a certain psychometrics research (it's a group work, but as usual, I'm left doing everything). It's also come to my attention that finals are around the corner, starting next week, and I haven't been able to study because of this stupid research.

I earned $24 today, I sold seven books (I gave three copies to Irene yesterday, she paid me today, plus four for my uncle and his children). But I'm overwhelmed. I'm doing stupid notes about this book, some sort of delivery notices for bookstores, and my dad keeps bothering me, always telling me I have to do this and that when I "have time", but he says the same things at least five times a day, meaning he wants them done at the moment.

I feel like killing myself, but only because I'm tired and sick of the university, and this book and of all the things I have to leave prepared for my trip to Houston (like sending cards, having lunch with cousins). This awful weight has fallen on my shoulders overnight, and the bags under my eyes grow every morning. I go to bed at midnight and wake up at 7, which apparently isn't enough sleep for me, to make up for the 7-10 hours (depending on the day) I spend at the university, meeting with professors, meeting deadlines, waiting for Joseph to arrive and then, when he's arrived -late-, wishing he just understood I'm not in the mood to be holding up a relationship these days.

(At this point, I think it's worth-mentioning that my brother saw me kissing Joseph, and he only smiled and waved at us, and didn't say anything to me on our way back home. He's a very discreet man)

I'm crying right now, and Joseph doesn't really help to make me feel better (not that he has to, though). He loves me as he always has, but sometimes, like today, he makes me feel bad. I don't care if it's half-joking. I don't have time for him, anymore, and I told him that tonight. Not as "let's break up", it was more like an apology. And then he says he doesn't have time either. I know that, even though I still don't understand why. This isn't any prelude to a break-up, it's the simple fact that we do not have time, and I'm sick and overwhelmed by the university, and I'm in a permanent bad mood.

I DON'T EVEN HAVE TIME TO COMPLAIN, OK? I'M FALLING ASLEEP IN FRONT OF THE MONITOR AND I'M 40 TIMES BEHIND SCHEDULE ON THE RESEARCH I'M WORKING ON, AND I HAVEN'T STUDIED FOR THE WORST FINALS EVER AND I SUCK AND I WON'T HAVE TIME NEXT WEEK AND NEXT ONE, AND THEN I'M LEAVING FOR HOUSTON AND I HAVEN'T BEEN THIS MISERABLE IN A LONG TIME BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR ANYTHING, AND I'M USING CAPS TO EMPHASIZE MY EXTREME UNHAPPINESS AND MY LONGING FOR CUTTING MYSELF AND GOING TO BED WITHOUT HAVING TO WORRY ABOUT THE RESEARCH AND THE GROUP ESSAY AND THE FINALS AND THE BOOK MANAGING AND THE GREETING CARDS I HAVE TO SEND BEFORE I LEAVE AND THE PACKING THE BAGS AND LEAVING FROG BEHIND AND THE GODDAMN WHORE WHO OWES ME TWO DOLLARS.

Can you feel the knot in my throat that's making me choke?

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