I should be an adult by now, but I think I've moved into the bargaining phase, in which I plead with myself not to do anything I'll regret. Do adults have more self-control? I also googled breaking up, hoping I'd discover a way to fast-forward time. Alas.
(I did learn that I shouldn't go over to his house and return the present he gave me, while spouting forth a heartfelt speech about how much he sucks and I rock. The speech would make him beg to date me again, so that I could later dump him. It's good that I learned this, because I was already on the 3rd draft. The content brought tears to my eyes.)
I would be even more self-indulgent if it wasn't for the fact that a giant stinging insect somehow made its way inside to terrorize me. It won't leave my room. I'm afraid to piss it off. I can't leave b/c the thesis corrections are supposed to be done by tomorrow afternoon. They're far from done, but today is the first day that I can honestly say I'm working on them. Only took 2 and a half days. Not consistently working, but hey - it's boring.
Because I'm still in the anger/spiteful phase, I honestly hope he's miserable right now. Because some of this is self-directed anger/spite, I doubt his degree of misery is equal to mine. I just want it to be equal or more. Yes, this is the blog where I broadcast uncomfortable truths about myself. I like to think blogging is anonymous, but shows about genius hacker cyber criminals have showed me that it's not. And yet I click the "Publish" button anyway. Why? Writing makes me feel better.