I'm feeling very lazy. I'm also in a rush. Having said that, here's a combination of two entries that I made on my Xanga blog.
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June 9, 2003
There is nothing of interest for me to say. Actually, there probably is, but I'm too tired to come up with the words to say all that could be said. Today was the first day of the TCC Connections Program and my first therapy session. One should know that Alisha has plenty to say on each topic.
Sadly, I don't feel like sharing. I should be in bed, dreaming of wild sex between myself and a Vin Diesel-ish guy. At least, I should've already masturbated. Neither is true, for I am still awake, with merely 10 minutes remaining until 12 a.m.
I don't feel like going into my entire encounter of my first therapy session, but there is one thing that I'd like to share. Cathy, my therapist, took my mother back to her office before she and I spoke today. My mom gave her background information on myself and my family. Then, Cathy escorted my mother out of her office and invited me to follow her back, so that we could chat. After we had our first session, Cathy told me to go ahead and make an appointment with the receptionist, while she took my mother back to her office so that they could talk once again before we left.
Once my mom and I were out in our car, I asked my mom what Cathy told her. My mom replied by saying, "She told me that she thinks you really need therapy. I agreed with her." Of course, my mom told me a few other things, but I found none of them as interesting as the above. The way she said it made it sound as if I truely am crazy and need serious help.
«Alisha»
A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.
- William James
Birth: the leading cause of death.
- B.C., Wiley's Dictionary
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June 10, 2003
I'm really very tired. Once again, I recieved only a few hours of sleep. Had my alarm clock failed to go off at 6 a.m., I would've slept longer. I dislike my TCC math course. Math is of no use to me. I can add, subtract, multiply, divide, and recieve money from generous acquaintances. I can do all basic math functions. Why learn more than that? Why be forced to put up with 6 weeks, minus two days, of Remedial Math Hell?
The only answer to all of my questions: my mom It seems she wants me to succeed in life (who wishes such a thing?), and believes that knowing basic Algebra will carry me through life's difficulties.
God, this would be a good time for suicide.
«Alisha»
A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
Happy are you sad, wanna shoot your dad
I'll do anything I can
It's the wrong way
We talk all night, try to make it right
Believe me shit was tight
It was the wrong way
So run away if you wanna stay
Cause I ain't here to make ya, oh no
It's up to you what you really wanna do
Spend some time in America
Dub style!
-Sublime, "Wrong Way"
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Hopefully I'll have a burst of energy once I return home; this would translate as a totally original, never posted entry for this diary.
If I'm still lacking energy, though, I'm coming home and taking a nap. I've had a hard day of boring and annoying remedial math.
There is no mercy. Just number lines and gay factorial trees.
