September 1, 2001 (idea)

i like lists.

i'm moving in two days
i'm starting school in, technically four days.
i'm getting my teeth painfully worked on in three days.
i will get a front tooth pulled.
my last shift at work is in eight days
i'm getting a little petrified at the idea of all this
my icbc lady told me i was refreshingly optimistic about my injuries. i wanted to tell her i was experienced at faking happiness
i can't even pack, i'm so frozen with overwhelmedness
i wish i was high.
i'm watching my life being packed away into brown boxes, disorganized as it is, and remembering how messed up i truly was
i don't think i've gotten better since then
my first beaver meeting is in twelve days.
i have ten beavers and no leaders
i'm pissing people off left and right by cancelling plans and not phoning when i said i would.
i haven't bought my books yet
i haven't sent in my loan application yet
i'm all out of socks
my ankle hurts.
i need to find a new job.
i need to do a lot of things. i can't do anything.