judecorp | Who needs sleep?

Apparently not me.

With the help of Princess, I just don't sleep anymore. The upside? I don't have any appetite, either. (Now, now, kids, don't you worry, my uberbooty isn't in any danger of vanishing.) Rock! Who'da thunk that the answer to my sleep and eat woes could be found in waves of velvet and silk? (Mmm, waves of velvet and silk...)

I finished a rather interesting book on expressive therapies for traumatized children. Of course, no sooner, two of the other books I'd reserved came in. So now I have more. I'm completely fascinated by this art therapy stuff. I really think I'd like to do some art therapy. It sounds like fun! And cathartic. Maybe I should draw pictures of how I see my clients.

Last night, I did the rough draft of my race & ethnicity project, which is good. I'll likely do the companion piece (for the independent study) on Sunday, so I can hand them in on Monday and be a sloth for the rest of the week. I felt like I had to do something yesterday, since neither of my intakes showed up and I was completely unproductive at work.

Tiff is coming over tonight after work, and then it's off to the Fair! I am certain I will have an appetite for a funnel cake and a candy apple. I am a candy apple addict. I am so eight years old. Maybe I will go down the Giant Slide.

Princess puts these neat little exercises in her journal [insert shameless plug here, hee!] that I find completely fascinating. The last one was about writing to someone you love and listing the reasons why you hate them. I don't hate anyone, ever, but I came up with a pretty good (if I do say so myself) response of loathing, directed at her. We gabbed, and I decided that I wanted to write one for myself, partially to explore it creatively, and partially to see how it felt to be on the receiving end. Now don't you worry, boys and girls, I don't hate myself. Geeze. I kick way too much ass for that. Obv. This is an exercise. You know. Cerebral stuff. Skip it if you want. :)

ObJ: All I really need to do is find myself a brand new lover.

~//~

You are the most arrogant, self-centered, self-aggrandizing, cocky, belligerent person I have ever met. Do you honestly believe the things you spout off about yourself, or is it rhetoric to sustain or enhance your ridiculous image? You always have to be the strong one, the brave one, the fearless one, the successful one. Just for once, take a fucking break from yourself. Jesus. Who the fuck do you think you are? Superman? Get over yourself.

And that's another thing. You have the worse case of Saviour Complex that I have ever seen. I don't need you to do everything for me! I am perfectly capable of running my own life! I am an adult too, you know. You are not my mother, and I don't need you to cut me down out of a tree, so just stop. p.s. You can't fucking save the world, either, so just fucking let it go.

Do you have any idea how annoying your writing is? Let's face it, it's pompous like everything else you do. And this livejournal thing is just another medium for you to broadcast your propaganda and your supposed creativity. Put down the Feminist Manifesto before you hurt yourself. Brilliance? Not hardly. You, my dear, are average. Sucks to hear, doesn't it? But you are. Sure, your GPA was a 3.906. Who the fuck cares? Is anyone going to ask you that? Is that going to change the fact that you can't make a simple decision about which restaurant to eat at? Besides, we all know that no one actually reads your work. They see your name and give you an A. You are a bullshit artist of the highest calibre, and one day someone's going to see through you. And then you will have to struggle. And I will laugh.

By the way, this Knight in Shining Armor stuff is absolutely pathetic. Admit it. Grandma was right. You aren't the kind of girl who can get and keep a husband. You sure blew it this time, didn't you, Ms. Perfect?

p.s. That's right. I said 'Ms.' You're a girl, you know, no matter what you like to say.