28/10/2002 - 5:47 p.m.

You gotta do extraordinary things

If the bath won't stop reeking
And those girls won't stop shrieking
And the whole move thing is still unfair
If my grades are all rotting
And my spirits are clotting
Well, I'm terribly sorry but I don't care.

Becase I'm blasting Pippin as loud as I can stand it and I don't care who complains because it's fighting against all the angsty teen rock that emits from that room down the hall all the time.

You know, most of my favourite shows are all about living. About actually living and enjoying it and having a good time. It's time for me to start doing that. I spend all my time thinking too much and worrying about things and you know, in the end, everything turns out all right. And it doesn't matter a bit whether I worried about it or not.

Today has been a super monstrous improvement over the weekend. Over last week. It's growing nigh on the end of October, that's why. Well, it's one of the reasons. The other one arrived with Pippin.

It's nice to be in a good mood again. Euphoric, you might say.

I'm afraid that with the passing of October comes my last window to work on that story I started writing last year. I don't think it will ever be finished. I'm a completely different person now. I don't feel Lisa's bitchiness and Michael's creative hopelessness the way I did last year this time, which was definately what was driving the thing at the time. Sorry to anyone who was really hoping it would go someplace.

Although, if anyone wants to continue on their own, the original plot line calls for her to ask Mike to the wedding. I can't remember where it was supposed to go from there, except that something disastriously huge was supposed to happen when they were at the wedding. And then I hadn't worked it out yet.

I wonder if Charles Dickens knew when he died how The Mystery of Edwin Drood would finally work out?