Teresa's birthday/end of summer bash tomorrow night.

Frustrated.

Frustrated at my mother for various reasons, at my father for others, at the world in general for not being more accomodating.

I feel as if I'm trapped in a dimension where my standards seem bizarre to everyone else and only make sense to me.

Perhaps I'm going crazy?

Hmm. No, I'm reasonably sure I'm still reasonably sane. But then again, if my reasoning is unsound, than my reason has no basis in reason!

Ahhhhhhhhh.

4:17. I'm supposed to be going shoe shopping, though I really have no desire for shoes. Odd, because that's the typical female stereotype.

I dislike living at home. Ah, well. At least I'm not starving in sub-saharan Africa. Or, you know, infested with bubonic plague. And I don't have tuberculosis. I'm also not being sold in marriage by an overbearing, Gengis Khan-esque father.

Therefore, there are many things to be thankful for. See, four right above.

A bird cawing outside. The fan in the bathroom blowing, blowing, blowing ceaselessly. Dripping hair, cars rushing by, rough hands, and very short time.