Walking Washers Don't Wash

I am still sick. I sit here typing because when I talk I sound awful. Meanwhile, the washing machine walks and continues to try to break out of the wash room. I hope it doesn't cause any damages that I know I cannot repair. The things I do just to kill a bug in my bed sheets. Apparently, however, my sickness has affected my judgment in how to wash my bed items. I hope nothing stupidly fatal happens.

I am still in no condition to paint or do a value chart. I can type and read what I need to just fine, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to comprehend it. My mind is so easily distracted now in the silence that used to help me read clearly. Distracted by this damn illness. I don't remember anything hitting me this hard. I really hope that this doesn't spill over into tomorrow. If so, I'm so screwed.

Strangely enough, I feel better when I'm here typing and blogging than I do doing anything else. When I try to sleep, I become restless. When I try to do my work, I cannot concentraite. When I need to do my chores, I don't feel like it. But when I'm here blogging, I feel at peace. I feel better. I feel safe. Maybe it's my head acting up again. You know, distortying my thinking or something. I don't know what it may be, but I feel better when I'm here, and that's all that matters.

I wish my mother would just quit playing all these waltzes for my sister's debutante ball. I mean, I see all these kids out there not liking what they are doing, not liking to waltz, and if worst comes to worst, not liking the ball. I love my sister. Don't get me wrong on that. I just really wish my mom wouldn't put so much effort into her party and fail to remember that she did not do the same kind of thing for me when I turned 18. Maybe when I turn 21. Doubt it since I don't drink and I've never gone clubbing.

If I had one birthday wish when I turn 21, it would be to be able to have an arcade of games all to myself and to whoever I bring along. Ken, Jaime, and Christina are on the top of that list. Unfortunately, I know Christinia probibly won't be able to make it. She works like crazy to put herself through college. It almost makes me wish I didn't screw things up with the boys just so I can help her out.

Yes, you read that right. I still think about the boys. I don't know why. I can't get them out of my head. Anything Disney related I think of Jack. Channel surfing and seeing a BoFlex commercial reminds me of James. And every time I see a skater on ESPN2 I think of Andrew.

Why can't I let go?

I really need Christina to hook me up with someone to help me forget. I need to talk to her the next time I see her and tell her my problem. Too bad the only time I'll get to do that is probibly Tuesday.