TT agreed with me that it would be much much worse if i did not feel so bad about the havana thing.

*shrug*

my terror is much about turning into my rents, methinks. the kitty is fine in all actuality, and i did not smack his rump too hard in any case.

i just hate seeing the angry side, the daemon rearing. that is the stompy little grrl, the one that cannot solve problems with logic and clarity (i put bitter apple on the light later)...the immature grrl out of control...loosing her cool.

i suppose everyone gets angry and scared sometimes -- i just find that ugly though, and pathetic...moreso even than whining or selfishness. these are all child things. pleh.

tomorrow is my psychologicalscreening for the bigbird job. i think i fear loosing another night of sleep much more than going to answer a five-hour-long freakin bubble test.

all the playing's stopped in the playground now
she wants to play with her toys a while.

and school's out early and soon we'll be learning
and the lesson today is how to die.

and then the bullhorn crackles,
and the captain crackles,
with the problems and the how's and why's.

and he can see no reasons
'cause there are no reasons...

what reason do you need to die?

tell me why? i don't like mondays
tell me why? i don't like mondays
tell me why? i don't like mondays

i want to shoot
the whole day down