On an unrelated note, anyone know someone on the black market that could remove a uterus?

“She bounces back quick!”

No. I don’t. I’m sorry to have deceived you so. It’s when I’m alone that things seem worst. I spend a week sleeping next to my sanity and the second night away, I break down.

I guess it was coming. It’s just really easy to hide all my monsters when I’m with you.

I’m terribly upset tonight. Today. Chase banking made me all flustered bright and early this morning. Then talking about banking led me to talking about my mom using 1/2 my scholarship money and the rest going toward new job training and Camp Texas. I intended to put that all in the savings account that I can’t access which is why Chase pissed me off this morning which led me to my ranting about working so hard and coming up empty handed as I cried into the wrinkled sky blue scrubs Mrs. Christian had on and then I went to PreCal and actually did work, which usually means I’m in a particularly off mood. Then I channelled all of my frustration into focusing on building a solar house for AP environmental, and afterwards I walked straight to the art room and tried to occupy my time painting a seascape on a rickety old chair and found myself fighting tears while I watched the navy-black mixture roll down the white leg of the chair and crash on the floor.

I sat in the office a lot today, but still less than usual. Mrs. Davis’ ignorance really is blissful and Mrs. Kersey has an endearing heart. They’re much better than being home alone. So I listen to their gossip and run errands. It keeps me occupied. And then I got a call back from Mr. Marlin who told me he wanted me certified for lifeguard training which made me think about money which made me think about how much I hate Chase bank and got me all disheartened about working so hard and ending up with nothing.

I sat in the computer chair with my chin on my knees wishing I could figure it out. But no worries, mom is home to ask if I’ll pay the $215.27 electric bill. Yeah. Sure. I need electricity to bitch about how much I hate having no money. Oh. And I’m down to eating a sandwich for dinner and nothing else in a day, so mom, I’ll give you all my cash and hope you don’t return with cosmic brownies and Doritos.

Then I remember I owe Cj $80. Which reminds me that lifeguarding classes will cost me $170. Which makes me think about hating Chase and my lack of money.

So I took a pair of scissors to my hair. And cried in the mirror as I looked at the sad, red-tinted, brown mop on my head and the matching mound of hair in my sink. Then I looked at my eyes that are too big and my chubby cheeks and my ears that everyone makes fun of and wished I were taller, so 115lbs didn’t make me look like an oompa loopa and I cried some more because I graduate next week and I want to be beautiful and

I feel so terrible because
this morning Chase
made me talk
about the
money I
do not
have.

“I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, our actual night, the hell of it, the senseless emptiness.” ― Jack Kerouac

“My mother and father are beautiful souls. Children at heart, really. They raised me well. Firmly and supportively. They never told me I couldn’t or that I was wrong in my ways, but told me to push on for what I wanted. That’s what my mother did. She overcame adversity and succeeded with flying colors. She was an unstoppable force. My father grew up in a quiet, successful suburban family. Despite their differences, he finally fell in love with my mother. My grandmother and grandfather tell me they were inseparable. As long as I can remember, they’ve been that way. They hold hands in the grocery stores and sneak kisses while they make dinner in the kitchen. My father stares at my mother a lot. Admiring her, really. And my mother looks at him with eyes brimming with love. They’ve been married for 35 years now, and they’re still madly in love. That’s rare these days, you know? They’re not like most people. They hated to watch their parents engulfed in technology, so when I was around, they gave me their undivided attention. Both of them were great listeners, but my mother was also an avid conversationalist. My dad loves to read. He’s always got his nose in a book. And at night he would share his stories with us. On calm evenings, mom would read us excerpts from her most recently read poetry. They’re the kind of parents everyone dreamed of. They’re the kind of parents I hope I can be.”

I’ve resorted to watching Check It Out.

“I was laughing because I was tickling myself.”

Oh god.

She’s got eyes like love.

Love. Love. Love.