The Cannon

I am currently sitting at my computer desk, seven in the AM, as Tainchay clears her throat in hopes that it will clue me in to go to fucking sleep. Truth be told, now that I'm awake I can't see that happening until at least this afternoon.

I'm living on a week-to-week allowance that my parents have set up for me, which really sucks. On top of all this, I'm not doing that well in school and it doesn't seem to phase me. My only concerns are the pangs of guilt I recieve every now and again for taking so much of my parent's money.

I hate to say it, but I am slightly home sick.
Actually, homesick is the wrong description for how I feel about "back home", but regardless, I really fucking wanted to go home for Thanksgiving. Of course, me residing in Calgary never makes things easy, does it? Sigh. As much of an expensive burden it is though, I'm gonna miss this place.

I went through this "what the fuck am I doing" phase a few weeks ago. I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later, me being in College and all. I made the classic mistake of actually voicing my problems to people, thus making my situation somewhat worse. I just needed Cat to be there in the living room, at four in the morning when I can't get to sleep, so I can sit on the opposite couch and spew out words. Something about my peptic ulcers burning holes through my stomach. Hey, I've come a long way since crying whenever it rains.

I'm really into Sufjan Stevens lately, and was especially so at the beginning of the year. I think it started on the ride to Calgary, as I sat inbetween the door of my van and the actual seat. I was crammed right fucking in there, being that my grandmother, mother, and I were sharing a seat made for two. As extremely uncomfortable as it was, it was a good trip.

There's just something about packing up your life and moving it elsewhere that seems really satisfying.

Wow. For my first LJ post in a month and some odd days, this is really random. That's all I really have to say, other than my stress levels are at an all-time high. I'm usually not like this, and while I have anxiety over irrationals, I am rarely "stressed out". Let's just say I have a new found respect for my roomate last year, who practically ripped her hair out come exam time. I empathize.