This might be a good journal to skip...it's mostly me being depressive, and I'll likely regret writing it one day. I've had one of those days, and nobody's asked me about it, so I've not told them. Proceed at your own risk.

Nothing about today went particularly bad, but it's just that I've been thinking, and whenever I start thinking, it usually depresses me. It started yesterday, and well didn't stop today. Yesterday, I went downtown to purchase the gift I'd decided to get for Kate, and they were sold out...so, I wandered around downtown for a while, convincing myself that it wasn't as bad as I was making it...which it obviously wasn't. Regardless, it did put kind of a damper on my day, and it has carried over to today. Today, I went to the DMV to get a learners permit (mostly because I need a government issued ID to pass customs on my trip to Canada). They gave me a restriction I was totally not expecting. Regardless of what I'll tell everyone else, to you select few who've actually found this place, I'll admit to noticing on my way out the door from the DMV, and just not wanting to deal with it. I wish I'd dealt with it then, but it's a little late for that. There on the back of the card: "Restrictions: 1) corrective lenses." This took me completely by surprise. The lady who tested me, gave me no indication that my vision was anything less than perfect...she had the guy before me read different lines multiple times, and eventually had to tell him that one of the digits wasn't an 8, he guessed 6 and she passed him. So, I'm hoping it was a mistake, but being my paranoid self, I'm not sure...and the DMV isn't open until Tuesday because of the Christmas holiday. So, I have until then to brood on it...nobody here's asked how it went, and I haven't told them. It's a habit I must break out of...At some level, I don't want to admit that I'm not perfect. It's silly I realize...and everyone knows I'm not perfect, but at the same time, I don't like making mistakes or admitting to them. Here, my mistake was not turning right around and dealing with it then...a mistake I make far too often. So, now I'm going to make it sound as if I didn't realize until a while after, and then go back, and find out whose mistake it was...and maybe get glasses.

Yesterday and today put me on a roll. I'm now looking at all the things I should have done, but put off until it was too late, or should have been, or made a mess of procrastination and indecisiveness, that's me. I should have failed 11th grade, and been sent home. I know this. I put off 2 major assignments in 2 different classes and should have failed both of them, when only one of them would have been enough to get me kicked out. I owe more to Mrs. Sikkink and Mrs. Link than I will ever admit to them. They both gave me big breaks I didn't deserve...and my life's been doing that, and thus supporting my habits. Life working out like that is the main reason I believe in a God. But sometimes, I wonder if it wouldn't have been good for me to fall on my ass once or twice...to have my procrastination really hurt. I'm trying to stop, but reform for the procrastinator always starts tomorrow. Let's think...other things I screwed up...Almost didn't get my State acceptance in...I borrowed the $100 from August, and Seph and Hillary ran it to State for me the day it had to be received. I think the one big thing I didn't do...that I can't fix...was not replying when Jessica Henry wrote in my guestbook. It was a simple message, but it meant a lot to me: "you're poetry is truly beautiful. shine on" I intended to write her and tell her how important her comments were, and just say thank you. I can't do that now. I'm told she killed herself as a result of problems with her mother. It took me about a month to realize that my brother's friend who had commited suicide was the same person who had signed my guestbook. I don't think it would've made a big difference...probably no difference at all...but in life, it's the insignificant things that are significant. When you die, is it going to matter what school you went to, or where you lived, how much you got payed, how many cars you owned? I doubt it. It's going to matter when you got up at 6 a.m. to go to the bagel shop with your friends, just 'cause you could. Or stayed up to 4 a.m. talking because nobody was tired. I've done small things, and had people say they meant a lot to them. And I know of small things that have meant a lot to me. *sigh* In the end, what's it matter? People live, people die, and the world continues to spin. I feel like there should be some moral lesson at the end of this, but there is none. Maybe the lesson is don't be like me, maybe the lesson is we make our own lesson, maybe it's to stop reading what I write. Maybe I read too much into life. I had more to write when I sat down...but I don't feel like writing it now. ; ) perhaps another day, perhaps not at all.