i miss the mittens above my bed

today i feel: like shit
today i'm hearing: elliott smith -- somebody that i used to know
today i'm thinking: i shouldn't have gotten up this morning

Chelsea is on the waiting list for her internship. Which makes the whole living in Carbondale over the summer thing really sketchy. I hope she gets it. I really, really hope she gets at. At this point, it's not even a rent thing (though that is a bit of a factor). She can't live at home this summer. That would be very, very unhealthy for her. And I don't trust her da to not make her life absolute shit. Sorry, babe. I don't. But you knew that all-ready.

Down-the-Hall-Matt still hasn't gotten an absolute answer on his work, either. Which makes me extra-super-scared. Because, haha, I can't fork out five-hundred a month. I don't know what the deal with that is. I kind of hope that we won't do any more housing stuff until we *know* if he's got a job, at least. Chelsea's going to apply to other internships and work on those, and we're not sure when we'll find out about that for sure. But her da...I don't know what he'll do. So there's no way to make Chelsea's life not up-in-the-air with any sureity. Matt, on the other hand, should be finding out by Monday what his status is, and if we can wait until then, I'll at least know that there's at least one other person who will be living with me. And while just living with Matt could be either awesome or super-awkward, I am relatively fond of the kid and I like to think he's groovy with me too. And I'll take that. Yep.

Today's been a crappy day.

I jump to a lot of conclusions. And I'm way too hooked on to that good, old-fashioned subtext. Which is awesome in the Play Anal sense and absolute doom in the living successfully sense. Which is something I'm discovering I fail at. I read too much into asinine, back-hand comments and I get worried about comments that were probably just vocal ponderings and that fucks me over. I am very, very good at fucking my life up. Which isn't comforting at all. Though I guess I'd rather fuck myself up than have other people fuck me up. Maybe. I don't know what I'm saying.

I'm just sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I was wrong. I should've trusted you more.

I'd forgotten when Piper's birthday was. I remember when Paige told me, now, that that was really funny to me. Because that day is always such a terrible day for me, especially when I'm around my mum a lot, and here was fifteen-year-old Paige running up to me, more excited than I'd ever seen her, telling me all about how her baby sister's been born. That was really neat. I thought to myself, wow. There's two sides to everything, isn't there? Maybe I should learn to look at both of them. And I still haven't learned that. But I think it's okay for that sort of thing to take a lot of time. Change is really hard, after all. Why do you think butterflies die so young and yet are so beautiful? That would be poetic if it made any sense. There are two sides to every story. And as great as I am at subtext, I always seem to lose the plot.

Sometimes, life is every crappy love song you listen to with your headphones on so no one knows your sentiments.