2004-09-13 - 9:10 p.m.
I am not really a patient person. Oh how I try--and I do manage to keep my mouth shut to the people I am trying to be patient for--but I am just an anxiety-ridden, impatient mess. [This reminds me of how once Wayne said, "I used to think I was patient but now I realize I am just angry in silence."]
I don't want to just complain that things are hard when things are also wonderful. But life puts a strain on things and burdens pile up and I never finish cleaning my room and my sinuses are filled with gobbledy-gook. No matter how much I blow my nose, it doesn't help! The gunk has moved on, elsewhere, possibly to some inner chamber of my ears.
I do find that when I just fake along with being patient and optimistic, it comes. It's sort of like walking without a safety net for a while, but by the time I'm falling off the rope, it's there after all.
Yesterday I kept imagining myelf as a bug of some sorts (okay, okay, so it was a butterfly) who kept getting smashed and would lie there twitching for a while and then get up and keep going until something else smashed me down.
Spencer told his mom (per my request) that we wanted to start a club. "What's the name of the club?" she asked.
"The three friends." Spencer replied.
"Well I think the feelings run a little deeper than friendship on some angles," she retorted. She only said the club moved forward after I agreed to watch Nascar with her and Spencer. I really like Spencer's mom.
Speaking of moms, my mom is totally into talking on AIM. She mostly talks to Seth or his friends, but it makes me wish she talked to my friends. She'd probably find out too much gossip for her own good though.
