the questionable establishment

2001.04.08

Okay, so here I am, fresh-home from work, sitting in a distinct lack of air conditioning, half-naked with the fan blowing on me (I somehow don't think this should exactly cast a sensual image, so I don't care; I'm a girl and I'm shirtless; in Europe it's common). My feet hurt. I just spilled Dr. Thunder (an off-brand of the Fabu Dr. P) on myself, and I feel guilty for even having gotten it out. See, I'm trying to break myself of the caffiene addiction, and so far it's worked, so... yeah. I just had some rather good filé gumbo (my Dad's), reheated (which is *always* better than it is when it's made). And, finally, I'm staring at a mark I made on my wrist last week at school.

Yes, it's a masochism thing. Yes, I know self-mutilation is bad. No, I'm not completely insane... well, not completely. I've been thinking that it may be a distorted version of Senioritis, considering I have that too, very much so.

In fact, I'm beginning to believe that Senioritis is what's causing this major down. What I'm realizing, though, is that it's a cycle. I promise myself I'm going to do something, something that will help me change for the better; I start out great, all pat-myself-on-the-back and everything. Then I don't keep my own promises to myself. For instance, I promised myself no late work in two classes in which I always seem to screw up: two of my easiest classes, in fact, Religion and Psychology. I understand the material, I absorb it well whether I study or not, and I do well on the tests. And then I hand everything in a week or so late. I feel so guilty over not handing it in the day of that I don't work on it further, that I get scared and don't want to touch the little work I've done for fear I'll mess things up and just make it worse. I'm a perfectionist and a procrastinator: I want whatever I'm doing to be perfect, to the best of my ability. Then I get so scared it won't be that I don't even start, and I end up handing patchy, half-assed work in a week late.

Lately, the guilt's gotten so bad that I haven't been able to think about it at all. Hence the mark on my wrist. It's not much, and didn't bleed when I did it... it's just ugly.

The way I figure it, if I just get what I have to get done tonight, tonight, I'll be fine. If I just get that much done. Even if it takes all night.

Anyhow, I'll let you know how things turn out. For now, I'm taking a break and delving into my little cycle. Let's hope I can stay up tonight to break it. Out for now.

Hail and Farewell,
Leaina-arni/Lioness-lamb