Christine and Taters, Precious � � � Friday, Jul. 25, 2003 * 00:53

So, right.

This has got to have been the dumbest day of my life. I feel like someone stepped on me and then scraped me off the bottom of his or her shoe, tossed me in the trashcan, and then set the trashcan on fire.

I couldn't fall asleep last night, no matter what I did. When I finally woke up, it was only because Justin called and got me out of bed. I had horrible sinus pain all morning. I think that's what it was; I've never felt quite the same pressure in my face before. My heart was beating in a really painful way until I stood up for a few minutes, at which point it seemed to level out. But then, but then. After I read a big chunk of Two Towers, I started a load of laundry and got in the shower. When I stepped out, I caught my left foot on the tub and tumbled out, landing sideways on my right knee. Now, it doesn't exactly hurt, but it's all tingly and feels like I've hit my funny bone. That really made the carrying of the laundry fun.

I'd planned to do another load, but heaven help me, I just couldn't. You know how I hate it. I watched TV for a while and poked around on the internet, feeling increasingly destitute and miserable with every passing moment. I'd fall into trancelike states every 15 minutes or so, wondering things like "Am I really 22?"; "How did I end up so worthless and in such a pointless place as this?"; "If I could disappear, would that make me happy?"; "Is Justin ever coming home? Does he love me? Will he love me always?" ...

I finally ended up snapping out of that by eating a bowl of macaroni and reading some of Justin's letters. I played with my animals, and fed them, and cried because someday they will die. I vacuumed the floor five times, but did not clean anything else.

I finally ended up in the car, on my way to downtown College Park, although I don't remember making the decision to go there. I took myself to Starbucks' drive thru, and got a decaf tea. I then, and I swear I don't remember how I got there, suddenly found myself at IHOP, being asked if there was just the one of me for a table. I felt violently ill all through the meal, but the waiter was very nice and even gave me some free pancakes. I regarded with a mixture of sadness and utter hatred a small child, no more than 3, who was belting out an improvisational rendition, at the top of his lungs, of "There's a hole! There's a hole! Ohhhhhthere'saholeatthebottomofthesea!" ad infinitum.

A family came in as I was receiving my po-ta-toes, and chuckling to myself about 'What's taters, precious?' They were very nice-looking - man, woman, two little girls - and they had road maps and pamphlets, and were discussing where to stay in Baltimore for the evening. I couldn't help it; I started to sob wretchedly at the thought of them, to envy and loathe them all at once, and fume inwardly at the idea that I never once went anywhere with my parents as a family, as a nice outing, let alone on a trip. I longed to sit with these strangers, talk with them, have them love me, but instead I just hid my tears behind my napkin, finished my taters, tipped my courteous waiter 4 dollars on a 4 dollar bill, and left, feeling like the dregs of humanity.

If there's anyone out there, won't you please tell me how to fix my miserable self. Anyone at all. I haven't felt this alone in years.

And, to top it all off, I don't even think I can read Two Towers anymore, not today. It is too depressing. Frodo, Sam, and Smeagol are at the stairs of Cirith Ungol, inside a pass of Ephel Duath, and they are feeling about as sad as I am. I can't bear to read about them, and I don't know what else on earth to do.

This is horrible.