Houston, We Have A Problem...
Aug. 31st, 2007 07:27 amOk, I'm up, I've had my shower, I've eaten my cereal and I'm feeling better...except in the stomach area.
My nerves! I have to drive the car to work and I'm having anxiety about it. I don't know what to do...or rather I do know what I have to do, but I don't want to do it. I have to get in the car and drive.
Oh fuck.
This is pathetic, because it's not that I'm scared of driving, of running into someone, I'm afraid of throwing up in the car.
Shit, shit, what do I do? My grandparents are gonna be pissed if I don't show up. And what am I supposed to do? If I don't go I'll be screwed...But this is like a self-fullfilling prophecy or something...
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Maybe I should call my pyschiatrist, that's what you have them for isn't it? For when the going gets tough?
Shit.
My nerves! I have to drive the car to work and I'm having anxiety about it. I don't know what to do...or rather I do know what I have to do, but I don't want to do it. I have to get in the car and drive.
Oh fuck.
This is pathetic, because it's not that I'm scared of driving, of running into someone, I'm afraid of throwing up in the car.
Shit, shit, what do I do? My grandparents are gonna be pissed if I don't show up. And what am I supposed to do? If I don't go I'll be screwed...But this is like a self-fullfilling prophecy or something...
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Maybe I should call my pyschiatrist, that's what you have them for isn't it? For when the going gets tough?
Shit.