Woke up crazy early this morning, but it was all worth it. Why? Because I got the MOMENTS posters from Kate! She wanted to get rid of the colorful evidence after taking advantage of her work’s printers, so I picked them up at her office before the morning rush. They look amazing! And Kate printed 250 of them! Honestly, she just saved me so much time and money. I hope Kate knows how much I appreciate her help. I think I told her about 25 times. Ugh. I love that girl so much!
Now that I have the posters, the next step is going to be putting them up around the city. That requires a staple gun. I figured that Dad would have had one at the house, so I took the car out and went up to Casa Z right after meeting Kate. Naturally, it wasn’t there. Phillip has it at his place downtown. Oy. Such a waste of time.
Two McDonald’s hash browns later, I drove back to the city. All I wanted this morning was a goddamn Creme Egg McFlurry. Why are McDonald’s ice cream machines always fucking broken? The audacity! I’m actually convinced it’s a chain-wide conspiracy. I will not stand for any more of this lactose intolerance bullshit. It’s just plain rude!
After my wild goose chase to get the stupid staple gun from Phillip, I went back to the Witch Cave. I dropped off my stuff, packed a bag for the gym, and blazed before heading out. Of course, once I arrived at the gym, I quickly realized that I had forgotten to pack a pair of shorts. So, I trekked back to my apartment, purchasing and eating a variety of munchies along the way, got my shorts, and returned to the gym. I still managed to do my full workout, which was good, and then walked home to the Witch Cave. Today was such a waste of time. Seriously.
I got high again as soon as I walked through my front door. After that, I was totally out of commission. A vegetable, except less healthy. A gummy worm, maybe. Tonight was supposed to have been a very productive evening, and I fucked it all up. It even got to the point where I was having a series of mini anxiety attacks about all of the crap that I’m not doing. I need to get back on track. This weed phase is completely throwing me off. Next week, I have that Toronto Fashion Week gig as well as all of the last-minute MOMENTS prep. Everything is going to be happening in such a condensed and hectic period. I won’t have time for fuck ups. Get it together, girl!
A while ago, I had made plans with Connor to go the movies tonight. We went to see Zootopia. The film itself was fantastic. I loved it. But, for whatever reason, I still felt a little claustrophobic in the movie theater. I tried to internalize as much of that anxiety as I could, though. I was also stoned, so that might have been a part of it. Overall, it was still good for me to get out of my apartment and have some social time with a friend. Connor now lives about 50-feet away from my place, so we walked home together after the movie, and that was that.
Today was a rough day for my anxiety. Oddly enough, I finally received a call back from Natasha’s therapy lady after I left her a voicemail last week. Moira Nightingale. I still can’t get over that name. Moira fuckin’ Nightingale. It’s so ridiculous. I’ve also decided to use her full name every time I refer to her. One word: MoiraNightingale.
Anyway, Moira Nightingale and I talked over the phone and had a pretty good chat. The short conversation was fairly helpful, but kind of weird at the same time. When I explained my current situation, Moira said something along the lines of, “Well, it sounds like you just need to get yourself a really good self-help book.”
Huh? No, thanks. The last thing I want right now is to spend more quiet time in my head. I interrupted her soon after she began listing off a variety of titles.
“That sounds nice,” I said. “But, I actually have a lot of things I really just want to talk about and get off my chest.”
Moira Nightingale agreed, and we scheduled my session for the week after next. I’m really looking forward to it. I think having an open discussion with a trained professional will be great for me. This is going to be my first time seeing a therapist, too. Should be interesting.
For the most part, I think my anxiety continues to stem from my situation with Logan. Eventually, I’ll have to message him. But, I just wonder, when will that have to happen? How long is Logan planning on avoiding me? It’s all so pathetic. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Logan since the day I met him. Now, it’s been reduced to this. I mean nothing to him. Logan doesn’t even acknowledge my existence anymore. I just wish he knew how much I still love him.
“Honestly I know it’s silly of me
To want you so badly
But keep it concealed
See my inferiority complex kicks in
And the words escape me
And I’m paralyzed
So helpless when I
Look into your eyes”
Goodnight xo
"I Wish You Knew" - Mariah Carey