angst, angst, angst. penis, penis, penis . . .

Okay, everybody:

"My angst is bigger than your goddamn penis!"

Very good.

I'm not going to go into elaborate detail at this second, but lets just say there is Drama going on at the theoretically Amarilla Casita.

*sigh*

hummana hummana wiggity wiggity

Feels like it's going to be another hot humid cha cha today. No, wait, the weather channel says scattered T-storms. Mmm, T-storms! I love those things . . .

Was going to head down to NY to the 'rents place tonight but am exhausted, and running around attempting to gather my clothing for the weekend as well as get ready for work just seems too daunting at this point. Plus I have a project I want to get finished today at work, and it's not going to happen if I leave early to catch some friggin train. So I left my mommy an email saying "see ya tomorrow morning." It's better for my sanity that way. My parents do not understand my lack of fear in a darkness bound City, and get all wiggy if I'm running about after sunfall in the big bad streets when really I prefer to do it then rather than during the crushing tides of the day. So it will save me some grief if I go tomorrow morning. Perhaps I can hook up with some City pals while I'm there.

I am tired. beatgoddess, sundart, primitive_boy and I were up late talking about some serious issues last night. There is some shit coming to a head in the household that needed to be dealt with. I was weirded out by the fact that this was the first time I was able to sit down with a group of people and feel completely comfortable speaking my mind about something, but also somewhat elated about the fact that it finally seems to be happening. Maybe my subconscious is finally getting the message about how actually talking about difficult shit is soooo much less of a big deal than bottling the difficult shit, in which case it just eats at you. Then again, lately I've been more open about my issues, my stress, my problems surrounding certain people, and with uniformly positive results. Heh. I guess practice does make perfect. Go figure.

All right, I should probably gird my loins (literally, I'm writing this in my bathrobe and not much else!) and head for the office.