I went on a walk today. It was actually pretty nice. I mean, I can’t take an actual walk where I live because it’s a county road, and not all people who live on it are courteous enough to keep their animals pinned up (dogs) – which means that if I reach a certain place on the road, they’re gonna start barking and chasing me because they’re loose. The dang dogs chase everyone’s cars and everyone who even tries to walk. Most are quite brutal. Toto’s[1. My truck. Some day I’ll make a post about him/her (she’s unisex/an “it”).] gotten so many scratches from those stupid dogs who run out RIGHT BEFORE ME, causing me to almost hit them. The people hate it, but I roll down my window and yell at the top of my lungs, “MOVE YOU STUPID DOGS. I NEED TO GET HOME. DON’T MAKE ME CALL THE POUND.” Because 1) it works up my anxiety and 2) I don’t want to hit any animal. I even stop for birds.

Birds. <3 The next theme I have for 6birds is gonna contain OWLS. I love owls. I don’t know WHY I didn’t think of featuring them before. >.> Therefore, if you know anyone (or if you are someone) who’d be up for that, lemme know. Won’t be for a while, though. …Like…autumn.

So a way to make me going to Grandmama’s to “work” (or be easier to tell Mimi) is to tell Mimi that Grandmama called and wanted to know if I could come stay with her for a while since I’m currently not working at the moment. Technically she did. And it would give Mimi time to get everything ready how she wants it – as well as her to not have to deal with the stress. Also, I can go ahead and pack my room up (having some things that I need on me in boxes as well, but to take with me to G’mama’s) and put up what doesn’t need to be out. It would [most likely] be easier for all of us. Also, I won’t be pressured into feeling better. I mean, it’s like I’m not allowed to cry or to feel bad. I can’t have any normal conversation in reality without it leading to and/or having to do with me getting a job. I quit work to get better and to get away from job-related mess for a bit, but for the past two weeks, work is all that I have had to talk about and/or people have asked about.

Bebe calling me “ungrateful” didn’t make me feel any better. And she said, “I’m not being mean. I’m just giving you the FACTS.” So much for being able to tell her what’s on my mind and talk to her about everything, right? My bill came in for that yearly feminine visit, and it was more than discussed. I told her, and she said she’d call and talk to them about it. “See? I do care.” I never said she didn’t care. It’s like they don’t understand exactly how vulnerable I am and how much it hurts. I had also told her (before she went on a rampage about how I don’t appreciate crap/am ungrateful/etc.) that for the past two weeks no one had asked me how I was doing to actually see how I was doing without it leading to something job-related. I mean, is it really that bad that I’d love to have one NOT revolving around something that got me to this mental state in the first place? Just because work only played a part in my building depression doesn’t mean it didn’t make my depression any better, ya know?

I don’t think I’m ever gonna get my Cars 2 DVD that was left at my mom’s house and/or my books that Isaac decided to just … BAG UP AND TAKE … back. </3 My Twilight Saga books were in that bag – especially New Moon and Eclipse, my favorites (I loved the action…). Speaking of the Twilight Saga, I know that Breaking Dawn explains why everything has happened the way it did, but can’t Stephanie Meyer make an alternate version of the series to where something un-cliche happens – like Jake and Bella getting married instead? Oh, wait. Sorry, I have to remind myself constantly that I’m the only person [maybe] who constantly writes prose pieces and other such writings where the girl/guy doesn’t end up with who you’d freaking expect her to. Why? I’m very horrible to my charries. 🙁 I torture them, and I make them suffer. I make my readers feel my characters’ pains, and I make them angry after they read it because I ruined a perfectly cute couple – like Bradford and Norah, an unpublished prose piece (because I’m still just not happy with it, and have rewritten it about nine times now). Here’s a blurb I came up with just now[2. ‘Cept not really.]:

I met him all because my father had to work late. I was sitting on the stone wall beside the tennis court, and this obnoxious guy walked right up to me and started chatting away. He was the new kid in school, and his thick, Southern accent was apparently attractive in this city. I don’t know how he knew my name, but I didn’t think of that at the time. His name was Bradford, and he was intimidating. I was in ninth grade, and he was a sophomore. I fell in love with him, and then he left.

And that’s the prologue of the first book of however many books will be in the series. I think I’m going to completely start over by starting at the end of the story. I lost at NaNoWriMo because I started rewriting this. Whoops.

P.S. I bought a Wreck This Journal. It’s in the mail, and it will be delivered to my aunt Charan’s house. 😀 YES. Maybe it’ll help me let loose or something. Did you have one? I have some questions about some of the things[3. like how do you mail it to yourself? Does it really take just one stamp?] in it. I’m gonna try to keep it some kind of organized mess (not too messy, but still wrecked). :3