blustocking | Do I even bother?

I've gone through so many emotions today, and I still don't know what to wear.

Last night when I went home, at 3 am, I thought: No. This isn't because of some mystical magical problem with 2002. It's not the year, it's me. I haven't been taking care of things. I haven't been getting stuff done at home, stupid stuff like putting my desk together and making phone calls for chrissakes. I haven't written my grandparents a thank you for the Christmas money and I haven't even been emailing people back. So I thought, all of these little things piling up are the cause of my troubles, or at least my pendulum-like moods. I resolved, that today (being Thursday) that I would take care of as many of these things as I could and I started to feel better. I started to feel productive and like 2002 wasn't going to get the best of me.

So what happens when I get to work in a semi-good mood? That's right, a call from Allstate. LAMONT, my claims adjuster wants me to take a look at the photos I sent in again and tell him if those skid marks are mine (because it would prove my car was over the line, which it WASN'T). He says my photos and the polaroids taken by the other party have skid marks in them which SEEM to match up with my tread on my tire...as if you can really see the tire tread on the DONUT I've been driving on. The fucker is trying to kick me off my Father's insurance month's before I turn 25. So I told him that I didn't have the pictures here and I'd have to call him back tomorrow. Frankly, he's a bitch, but I'll get to that. So I hang up, heart in my stomach and I start to cry quietly at my desk. I sit here for awhile to collect myself and then sneak out for a smoke outside. Now, I rarely smoke. Usually only when I drink. It's been this way for over 7 years. But I needed to get out and I needed something, ANYTHING that would calm me down. It never works, I just wanted to sit outside and not look like a total depressive goth chick staring off into space with my purple hair and Joy Division shirt on. Anyway, while I was out there I contemplated jumping off the parking garage but it's only about 5 stories and while I'd probably break some bones, I'd end up looking like a tard for trying to off myself in that manner. So then I contemplate just running out into traffic but again, the cars aren't moving fast enough and I'd still end up looking like a tard with a lot of broken bones.
I go back upstairs.

Before I left, I saw Sara checking "fuck2002" and saw her reach over to call me. That was very nice of her. :} When I came back, I ended up telling her what was wrong and by simply saying it all outloud it seemed to put things more into perspective. If I leave this kind of crap in my head it combines with other, not-that-bad crap and makes one. giant. ball. of. crap. Then I talked to Danielle about it, she took the pictures and was there at the scene. We agreed that this is bullshit and now I'm not as depressed...I'm pissed off.

I'm going to call LAMONT tomorrow and tell him if he doesn't start acting like he works for MY insurance company, then I need to talk to someone else about this. AND if he'll take a look at two specific pictures, there is NO WAY those tread marks could have been made by my tire because they end up parallel with the tire and would he mind telling me how I could move an entire car sideways? Besides all of this, the fucker HIT ME. I didn't hit him. If I had been in his lane my damage would be more towards the front, where HIS damage is. Fucking cocksuckers.

I have much shit to take care of and I'm pissed off. I'm going to be a bundle of nerves until this is all taken care of. I have to get my tire put on tomorrow (or Saturday) and pay $300.00. I have to write a $337 for my car payment and hope that the money my mother sent gets here. I have to make many phone calls, write many emails, take care of the auctions I put up on Ebay, call Gateway and get this whole thing sorted out. I have to find out what is going on with my old computer...shit I should have done that today. I have to now sell that computer and give Brendan back his $200 because the CD-RW was not being recognized. I have to see if I can afford to go to Vegas to see Susan and APE is coming up in a matter of weeks. The car has to be in good condition for that and I'll need money for hotel, eating, and stuff. Next month we pay the DWP bill as well, that's always a nice chunk. I have to find out if the bounced check to the cable company actually went through, bank says it did not, but the money looks like it's been taken out. I hate banks, I hate insurance companies, and I hate fucking living like this. Maybe 2002 isn't sucking...maybe Los Angeles is telling me to leave.

Maybe I'll die peacefully in my sleep.

:}

p.s. I've decided to take one Saturday French class (easy, it's repeat of what I just had because I don't want to forget it all) and a writing workshop...I need to write again...I need something...I can't afford an art class right now....oh, yeah, I have apply for financial aid and go see the counselor.

9:12pm: At least it's Thursday (Live Strip Day) and I got to eat free and see a really pretty girl dance naked...it was even pirate-themed....so I guess that's something.

Quote of the Day, thanks to Seanbaby.com: "Who needs gold dubloons when we can have these delicious golden sponge cakes?