I’ve heard of sessions with a psychiatrist where the patient has run out of things to say, so they will just sit there staring at each other for the whole hour. Thats how I’ve been feeling with this journal lately. I open it up, and nine out of ten times we just stare at each other. Then I close it and go to bed. The rest of the time I just force myself to write. I miss having endless amounts of things to say.

So, I’m getting sicker everyday. Each day I don’t think my cold will get worse. Then it does. It doesn’t help that I’m still doing university and working six days a week. Its hard for your body to stay healthy. At least I have a fever, and I’m sweating like a pig. My immune system is there for me. It can only get better.

I was upset at work today, because Adrian and Lucy went to Starbucks head office to have a meeting about Christmas products. I of course wasn’t invited, which I found quite insulting. Apparently I’m not a manager any more, and its no longer important for me to go to these things. Well…at least that’s what my irrational mind is saying. It took a couple of deep breaths and a slap on the face to get back in touch with reality. Still, this isn’t the first time I’ve been made to feel like the least important of our leadership team.

I haven’t studied at all in the last week, and its really pissing me off, because I don’t want to lose my A average in Sociology. So, I MUST start studying like mad and learn everything. I want to prove to me, and my parents and anyone who ever thought that I couldn’t do it, that I can get an A. Its just been so hard. Even after giving up my trumpet part, I’m dead exhausted. I have no energy, I’m sliding towards the depressed side. I need to rid myself of this sickness and thrust myself back into that frenzied rush of energy I had for all of September. Second wind, where are you?

Of course, my money situation is making me a little depressed wich is in turn draining me of energy. I knew this would happen, but I’ve hit rock bottom. I have nothing at all. If I wanted underarm deoderant tomorrow, I’d be out of luck. Don’t worry, I’ve got lots. I’ve got no food, I can’t buy new clothes, I have to pray I don’t use the gas in my truck up before my next paycheck. I’m officially poor.

I told my mother though. I want to be poor. I need to see it so that I stop depending on the luxuries I insist on. I need to find bottom, so I can rise above it. I told my mother, “I remember you told me a story that when you were my age, a fun night out was a bottle of coke, the tv, and a couple friends. My fun night out costs me a hundred dollars. I need to stop that or I’ll never pay my bills. I need to make myself broke in order to finaly stop spending.” So far its working. I’ve made myself broke. I’ve learned my lesson. If I hadn’t bought that dvd, I could have bought myself cough medicine today. Lesson learnt.

Its about time I starting growing up financialy, not just emotionaly.