For the first while that I had my journal the majority of my entries were quizes. I know there are a lot of people out there who can't stand people who only post quizes to their journal, so my old behavior started to disturb me. The thing is I remember at some time I made a point to stop doing all quizes. I consider that to be a good thing, as my pointless entries went down in number after that.
But, as all good things come with a butt, I realized something else after that. The majority of my actual entries were angsty or spazzy. Some of the entries consisted of four word sentences and a emoticon, and the pattern repeated across the entry. The angsty ones were even worse, with every sentence proclaiming how much I hated my life and moaning the death of it.
If I didn't know otherwise I wouldn't have been surprised to see myself commit suicide way back then. Some of the things I went through were so superficial that I can't believe I made such a big deal about them. Other things I'm surprised I made it through, especially with the state my mind was in back then.
As I'm sitting around trying to find something else to do some more regrets are hitting me. More personal, and recent. Stephen's [grand]parents have been making a point of asking if I've found a job every time they see me, and I wouldn't doubt if they're asking Stephen every time they talk to him. They've even gone so far as to demand he kick me out of the apartment if I don't find a job by the end of this month. That alone rocked Stephen's world because he's relying on their support to put him through graduate studies.
I get this feeling that I'm really not doing enough for my part. I'm not bringing in any money, and I'm barely keeping the apartment representable. It's not like I'm doing a good job as a "housewife" seeing as both my cloths and the towels need washed and I haven't done them like I should've last night.
Maybe I'm not being pushy enough to find a job. Maybe his parent's are right, and I shouldn't be leeching off them. Maybe I shouldn't be eating their food. I know I don't deserve it. It's just not my place.
I'm sorry. I'm being more expressive than I actually feel, so don't take this too seriously. I'm fine. Really.
I wanted to put more in this entry. I meant to put more in this entry. I just can't remember anything else I wanted to say. Maybe later. Maybe not.
I will survive.