it's a little past two in the morning, and i'm thinking about all of you who have brought to my attention that i haven't written anything in quite some time. to be honest, i haven't written much of anything lately, and i wish i could say differently. for the first time in my life, i stumbled (almost literally) upon the idea: what difference does it make if it's in my head or in a book that i don't let anyone read? the thought startled me, and i guess i'd be accurate in saying that i was momentarily turned off by the outlets i normally rely so heavily on. no bigs, though. i'm apparently back. back in the swing. swinging along. along for the ride. riding in style. stylishly late.... lately, i'm good. but i'm anxious. i think i've been anxious since birth. i wonder if i'll be anxious for the rest of my life. sometimes, i think i am the combination of everything really bad, really good. an example: i prepare myself for the worse. and, i like giving advice, but it's always from the lessons i've learned of which i know i could have spared myself of. and, my creative outlet is operated by my extremities. all good, all bad. so i guess that would make everyone else really love and really hate me at dangerous levels. it's OK, i'm fine with it.... as long as you do it fully. there's absolutely no point in half-assing love and hate.

so my schedule this semester, another example of my really bad/good combo: i only have class all day tuesday and thursday, and wednesday night = nada monday and friday. i am aware that i will often let those mondays and fridays go to waste. and i know we, as humans, have been warned not to waste life, but sometimes it feels so good to let it go by and not bother with it. maybe it's OK to be content with chalking it up on the board and forgetting about it. why do we always make each other feel guity about so much so often?

it's monday.... i'm chalking up an empty-day'er.