dinosaurs lived long ago

Why do I not know what I want until it's thrown its hands up in frustration and is walking away from me? Why does it take a beating over the head for me to comprehend that what I need is what I had... (until it walked away with its hands thrown up in frustration)? And why is it that I just don't get things in life - never get things in life, until it's too late?

Just a few whiney, narcissistic questions to get my ego going on a Tuesday morning after the looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong weekend spent (not doing much except for) realizing how messed up and backwards I've become.

After Friday night's dramatic portrayal of what is to come if I keep peddling in this direction, I was feeling the reprecussions (and slight nausea) on Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. In truth, my self-talk wasn't bad enough. All I needed was for good ol' mom and pops to give'er, to get me to screw my head on right. Like always, they deliver, like some lazy Chinese restaurant, after you've already eaten (or realized everything they're about to tell you). Clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom, vaccuum up, and try to smile. Do your homework, get an A+, quit your job, stop wasting time. Eat your dinner, don't talk back, lock the door, fall in line. Make your bed, help your sister, go to the store, get back on time.

But I still stayed out an hour and a half later then they'd asked me to. I always disappoint. Myself.

And then there's those things I wish I would've known about myself a few weeks ago, and those few words I wish I could take back, because as much fun as not knowing where you're going is, knowing is somehow still better. And I wish I'd known, if not who I am, then at least who I'm not, so I could've avoided some embarrassing moments. But I guess it's all a part of growing up, even though I should be well past that.

It's off to work for me, to waste a few hours before class.
Tomorrow I get to go back to grade five. I'm excited. I'll fit right in.