I am panicking mildly at the prospect of moving yet again. Another city. The third in three years...If I want this to work, I'll have to make the effort. Do I have the energy to do this? I didn't, honestly, in SF. I was tired, and lazy. I expected it to come easier. Maybe it will. But if it doesn't, am I ready?

I really don't know if I have anything that I want to say. Lately I get a lot of ideas that never make it into anything substantial. I think about crimson things, and the connection between roses and theatre curtains and blood. The height of drama, melodrama. I think about the crater left in my family, blown apart without anyone noticing.

I don't really want to talk about it.

I want Obama to be the next President.

I had dreams last night of killers and over-large cars. I dreamt of hiding and booby-traps and escapes. I dreamt of the end of the world, with all the children, myself included, trapped in a room over-looking the shoreline. I dreamt of ripping apart the illusion of reality that had been pasted over the window. We rushed outside - I lead the charge - only to find that a giant wave was ripping sideways across the ocean. The animals, fishes, even whales were uncovered then swallowed up again by the sea, with an astonishing, frightening clarity.

Then I found myself back in my bed. Sheets soft and warm around me, pillow tucked under my head and over my shoulder, sleep and I were intertwined like pieces of straw weaving a basket.

Today is my last day before I start working. Should I spend it like all the rest?

I GOT A JOB!

Not having a job or schoolwork makes things boring.

I'm home.

Also: AAAA+B+

I got accepted at UVic.

HEADACHE

I will not panic. I will not panic. I will not panic.

It's only freshman year. It won't matter ten years from now.
I am more than a grade.
I am a hard worker, I'm smart, I may not feel prepared, but I should trust myself that I have at least learned something over the course of the semester that will help with my finals.
It doesn't have to be perfect; it has to be done.

It will be okay, it will be over, I will be fine.
It will be okay, it will be over, I will be fine.
It will be okay, it will be over, I will be fine.

I will find a Boxing class, or Kung-Fu, Jujitsu, Judo, or something, and I won't quit when I have assignments.
I will find a guitar teacher, and I will practice every day.
I will stop eating wheat when I'm not supposed to.
I will get a plant that needs a little more care than my orchids. If it lives for two months, I will get a small pet.

I will get one assignment ahead of schedule in at least two of my classes for next semester so that I never have to panic about not having done the work.

I keep falling from one side of the teeter-totter to the next; one day I'm up, the next I'm down. I'm prepared, I'm fine, it'll be okay. But I'm not prepared, I'm freaking out, losing my nerve, and I start shaking with the insurmountable task of everything that lies before me. I feel lost.

This will be over, and it will be fine. This will be over. It will be fine. I will be fine. I will be okay. I will survive, I will make it to the summer. I will get back to what feels like real life.

Here, it feels like no one is ever listening. I say something, and get no response.