Yep, that's me.
One minute I am great, the next, a horrible mess. One minute I am screaming during the Duran Duran concert at John Taylor, boppin around to all my old favorite tunes (The Chauffeur, Save a Prayer, and Hungry Like the Wolf) with my honey smiling at me because he has never seen me be a silly teenager. The next, I am a stress-out, confrontational mess with messy hair and no make-up over moving, feeling uncomfortable all-over and all the hassles going on over one of my accounts at work.
If I take it easy, can I not feel guilty about not working so hard? My body knows to slow down, I don't know if my mind can.
Friday, April 15, 2005
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