Dorienne's Log

There’s always stuff, so much stuff to do (God, I’m hungry). I have to clean and do laundry and write my paper and this and that and the fricken list goes on forever. Now, it feels like there’s no way I can procrastinate; I think I haven’t the motivation to procrastinate. I have hit an all-time low.What can I do? People still piss me off; everyday I feel like I would be so much happier if I did not have anyone at all in my life. I cannot accomplish any of my goals.

Maybe I have too many? Maybe I’m just trying to aim too high? Eyes bigger than my stomach, and so on (I really wish I had cake).

Time to write, something, anything. I just need to start something. I’ve got nothing really to say, I just feel the depression coming and it makes it so difficult to breathe…

So, I couldn’t even achieve a goal I wanted to achieve….I don’t even have anything to add to this. I could rant on about what’s the point of going on when I can’t do the things I want to do and such, but I won’t. Life sucks, people suck. It’s these bright sunny days that make me really want to do it….

Sometimes, my own thoughts cannot convey how I feel. Interestingly enough, many times The Strokes do. And although not everything agrees with my present state of mind, it still works on many levels.

I’m tired of everyone I know
Of everyone I see
On the street
And on TV, yeah

On the other side
On the other side
Nobody’s waiting for me
On the other side

I hate them all, I hate them all
I hate myself
For hating them
So drink some more
I’ll love them all
I’ll drink even more
I’ll hate them even more than I did before

On the other side
On the other side
Nobody’s waiting for me
On the other side

Here we go
I remember when you came
You taught me how to sing
Now, it seems so far away
You taught me how to sing

I’m tired of being so judgemental
Of everyone
I will not go to sleep
I will train my eyes to see
That my mind is this blood as a birch on a tree
On the other side
On the other side
I know what’s waiting for me
On the other side

On the other side
On the other side
I know you’re waiting for me
On the other side

Tired today…very, very tired, but it is nearly the end of the week.

My great aunt, it seems has Alzheimer’s and she has to be put in a nursing home.

I made my grandmother go crazy with worry by telling her the specifics of what happened when my mother fell off a goddamn ladder trying to paint the basement ceiling and broke her tooth, by her hitting her jaw, in the process.

I made both my mother and grandmother feel terrible when, upon seeing the nice warm slippers Grandma got my mother for her birthday, I said that Grandma loves her more than me, causing Grandma to send $20 of her fixed income to me for no real reason. I don’t even need it….

My cousin is trying to get pregnant, and the fact that she’s having difficulties and the fact that my other aunt could not have kids and the fact that my own mother had trouble having kids, which is why I’m an only child, makes me feel sad and depressed about knowing, if (IF) I ever find someone and get married, the possibility of not being able to have children of my own is very real.

I think I’m sick and Denzel Washington and Jodie Foster, my two favorite actors in the entire world, are starring in a movie together and I’m stressed that when I go see it this, it’s opening weekend, it will be terrible and I’ll have to feel different about the pair of them.

Spring break is almost over and haven’t done anything more than I’ve done earlier. I don’t even feel relaxed, just exhausted. The stress of school and graduation and finding a job and my family and my friends and the lack of having anyone in my life is starting to weigh on me like those stupid anti-smoking commercials with the squished kids.

I am happy, metaphorically speaking, about something that shouldn’t concern me and even if it went down, I would still get over it. Even if we could make it work, it still wouldn’t work and yet I still get stressed over the idea of it.

All my friends are going out tonight, to get nice and wasted and yet I have to be in bed by midnight so that I can be up and six-fucking-o’clock in the morning to spend another day at a job earning $13.40 an hour and contemplating my future, all the while wondering if any of this is worth it.

I wish I were a different person. I wish I was taller, thinner, smarter, prettier, more religious, happier, more energetic, lighter or darker or just all the same complexion all over, had less acne, was in love someone who loved me, had an all black kitten that I could call either Hermione or Puppy and not be allergic. I wish I were a writer, a teacher, pianist, cellist, violinist, web designer, better flutist, singer, runner or simply an athlete all together. I wish I could turn 25 and stay there forever. I wish I could sit and watch my favorite movies all day long and never tire of them. I wish I could eat anything covered in Alfredo sauce and never get full or sick from it. I wish that all sweet things would stay sweet and pretty things stay pretty, that people never died or grew old or sick of one another. I wish I knew for certain if there was a heaven or hell or an after life or if life was the real hell and I’ll be doomed to keep living this evil circle over and over until I am amongst those alive when the rapture occurs, or when the sun starts to die and I have to make the choice of either staying behind on the earth to be burned away by the dying sun or leave the one I love, because at least hopefully in one of my lives, I’ll be in love, and hop on the last of the space shuttles leaving the earth in search of a new planet to inhabit and destroy.

I wish I had the strength to remember where I was going with this post.

And, I’m so very tired.

I finished a major part of my website….yay….I also have several finals next week, all of which need severe studying…
I have this feeling every once in while…this feeling of emptiness once I have either finished a project or stopped obsessing over one. I am always left wondering what the next step should be, and, often enough, I pick up something right away, but sometimes this emptiness lasts for days and leads into a depression that takes something really new to get me out of it. More than likely, that will not happen this time around, but I felt it was worth mentioning.

I just cannot figure out the why of it all. Why can I not derive the same energy and willpower that I have for learning Photoshop or perfecting my website into learning all the biochemical reactions I have thus neglected ten weeks into the quarter? Once upon a time, I used to hold an enthusiasm for this, but now….I know that my interests and wants out of life have changed dramatically, but can those truly amount to what I can make myself do? Was the real reason I did so well in high school the fact that I actually gave a damn about everything I was doing?

Hmmph…perhaps….

I cannot take much more of this.

Just when I thought it could not possibly get any more ridiculous, the sun rises once more.

I’ve just come from my Micro lab written practical and I would feel completely livid, if I could find the urge to give a damn. God! From the very beginning, the class was a complete and utter waste of my time and today simply proved the fact to an unwavering degree. We had a class assignment turned in two weeks ago, one that was not necessary in the first place, only to have it returned to us today, the day of the fricken practical! I look at my assignment and realize that I did it completely wrong. Okay, that would not have been a problem, had I received the graded assignment even yesterday, but no, I received it upon completing my practical. The problem? The practical had a problem IDENTICAL to the said assignment and I completed the problem the EXACT same way as I had previously. Had the TAs and the lab instructor taken an extra second to do their jobs, I would have had my assignment, realized I did something wrong and been able to rectify this issue on the practical. But, no! I have to deal with idiots and morons who do not want to be at their jobs anymore than I wish to be in their classrooms. The whole thing makes me sick.

Even more infuriating is the realization, coming to me through a fuming walk home from the practical, that the only reason I have remained a Microbiology major was because it fit in perfectly with my internship with Anheuser, and now with the great plausibility that I will not get a job offer from them, I see that the past four years of my life have been a complete waste. So many times did I think about saying, “Screw it” and just become an English or History or some bullshit, easy Humanities major and just find a job some time, somewhere that was enough to pay the bills. I would have been far happier as an English major than with with my current one. I just wish I had had someone to look at me say, “Dorienne, do what will make you happiest in the end” instead of someone pushing me to what he or she thought was a definition of success. Wealth and success are not synonymous to me and never will be. A successful life would be one where everyday one could go to sleep with a smile on his or her face, thankful for another happy day on Earth.

Now, my entire life’s strategy must be re-worked and I hate myself for not listening to myself and what I knew I wanted out of my life. Like it suggests in the title, hell is having to deal with other people. Some of the best days of my life have been spent locked away from the rest of the world for hours at a time. What does that say about me, I wonder….

Sometimes…I feel so lonely.

When even my gay friends are finding new boyfriends, I start to get discouraged and eventually depressed.

But, now to watch my taped American Idol results…

Some time last night my Beta fish I had had for almost two years, Bartleby, died. Apathy followed not because “it’s just a fish,” but mostly because I felt everyone in the world would think such. It wasn’t until earlier this morning that I realized how often I unconsciously looked over at his bowl and smiled by seeing him and a real sadness overtook me….

This morning, I had an appointment with this “therapy” thing OSU offers….complete waste of time. I went with the hopes of getting info on how to stop procrastinating and tips on making myself a better person. I could teach a class on what must be done to be a “perfect” student, accomplishing such is the real trick. I left the office angry at losing that time I will never get back again, and once I got home (and glanced once again at the fish I took for granted), tears fell. Not for a long time, just long enough for me to come to realization that I’m all alone in this world. Though not actually; there are friends and family and what not, but to know that there’s no one in the world I can talk to about what truly ails me is quite the tearful thought.

**sigh**

Tonight, I will give Bartleby the second (the first died tragically two months after I brought him home) a proper flushing and tomorrow I will attempt to find a Bartleby the third who resembles the second enough to make me forget that anything went wrong today….at least, that is the hope…

Bye Bye Bartleby Irving Trish Fish II (April 2004 – February 2006)

As I sit listening to Jill Scott’s Beautifully Human: Vol.2 and reading random The X-Files fan fiction, I consider this past week’s events and wonder if I will ever have the strength to change my future for the better. Examining my lists from yesterday and comparing them to the events of last night almost frightens me. It sounds odd now that I think about it, for I know myself, but never considered the fact that despite all my best intentions, I know precisely what I am going to do hours or even days in advance. I know myself, but I never knew just how much of myself I know.

I had every intention of following at least some of List Two, but only accomplished List Three, minus the writing since technically it should have gone into List One. I can’t say if I should be glad that I know myself so well or sad that regardless of the fact that I know exactly what must be done, I always manage to let all of the other crap get in the way, often to my own detriment.

I look ahead to tonight (at 4pm, given that I’ve slept most of the day away), smile and wonder if tears are in order, for I know what tonight should hold, but I also know what tonight will entail. Will I venture forth on a brave new routine, choosing what is right over what requires the least amount of energy? Probably not, but I have yet to lose all faith: three days later and I haven’t lost interest in this Xanga thing yet. Perhaps there may still be hope for me after all….