2004-03-12

psalm_onethirtyone: (Default)
2004-03-12 12:02 am

"Honey, I Know You're There... Please Pick Up the Phone..."

Have just joined Neopets. [livejournal.com profile] fannore converted me. It has been a week, indeed, of conversions to things she never thought she'd do.

*glows and snuggles her dear little neopets, and also the wondrous [livejournal.com profile] fannore, who, after putting her in the fandom(?) has been helping her out incredibly*

Waen and I are just having too much fun with this!
psalm_onethirtyone: (Michel)
2004-03-12 01:28 pm

"I Remember Days Full of Restlessness and Fury..."

So I've just realised that this entire week, I've barely seen my Mum. She's been working all week, from nine to four. But then she picks Waen up from soccer. So she's home around five-thirty. Then she has charting and paperwork to do until dinner. Dinner is eaten; we watch a movie sometimes; sometimes she's too tired, and just goes to bed. I never see her.

And today, she took Waen to a doctor's appointment before I woke up. Waen has soccer at three-thirty, so all this time - from twelve to three-thirty, Waen is going to be able to eat lunch with Mum, and spend three and a half hours alone with her, having her all to herself. Do I sound bitter?

Damn it, I want my mother. I'm not angry with Waen; I'm angry with Mum, because she should know.

And da' is away, so I shall go away, and wander around the house opening doors. Then I shall finish writing this letter to a person I don't really like. Then I shall go out to the park and swing for a little. I don't know. Perhaps I shall come home and cry.

I want my Mum.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Default)
2004-03-12 10:31 pm

"Am I A Good Man? Am I A Madman?"

Want to thank everyone for their sympathy. I feel rather much better now, and Mum is driving me Places to-morrow, so I shall talk to her.

Am listening to Jekyll and Hyde the whole way through for the first time, instead of just the last eight songs, and unfortunately it is making me laugh hysterically. I apologise. The lyrics are just--gah. It's not good.

Hn. Am trying to write Christophe. I know exactly what I want to write. It's actually writing it that's proving impossible.

It's getting so warm I need to sleep with a fan on at night. I liked it better, I think, when it was twenty degrees.