Pointless labor

I'm in the middle of cleaning up my room. *Attempting* to clean up my room. It's filthy. Beyond filthy. I just can't seem to throw things away. I have old textbooks, old notes, new notes, new textbooks, bills, mail, stationary goods...I'm a total packrat. I've managed to tame all the videocassettes, DVDs, and CDs on top of the dresser where my A/V stuff is located, and I've cleared off my desk to the point where I can actually see the chipped wood finish in a few spots, but my floor keeps fighting me. My bookshelf is entirely too small to hold all the stuff it needs to hold, and so it all overflows onto the carpet (which hasn't been vaccuumed in about three months). I've sorted and shredded and packed and thrown out, and it's not enough. Tiring. But, it does improve my mood a bit to, you know, not be at risk of tripping and breaking my neck every time I head to the bathroom.

My father is really starting to annoy me. Mom actually gave me a little talk about him being concerned because he doesn't really know what's wrong with him, so he's overly "sensitive", but that's bull because he's as much of a prick as he's always been. He wakes us up to go to church while he stays at home. He thinks it's wrong that my aunt who lost her husband from cancer doesn't want to go visit her uncle who's currently sick in the hospital. He gets angry at you if you disagree with him (about ANYTHING). Mom left today to go out, and called me from what I was doing to tell me to take care of the two pots she'd left on the fire. I was *upstairs* cleaning my room, and she calls me to tell me this. Meanwhile, my father is sitting on the couch downstairs in a robe, a tee, and his boxers (at 2 PM!) watching football and he doesn't volunteer to do a damn thing. The FUCK, man.

It's crunch time. I have to take the GREs. I have to apply to schools (I forgot that applying costs money. Money I don't have. I guess it's bond-cashing time...*sigh*). I might end up taking the Nursing School entrance exam. All while I try to get straight A's. It's no wonder that I'm so reluctant to find work, even though I need the money. But, yeah, I need the money. Dammit.

I should at least clean off my bed, huh?

"Mini Weigi numba not-one."

I've always wanted to use that in my journal. I say it as often as I can. So cute.

Alexa called me not too long ago. She's, I don't know, a great person and a weird person at the same time. I think part of her weirdness is that she puts up with me. Her and Jo both. I'm a fairly shitty friend, on the whole. I go through spells where I don't talk to people for months, and, you know, sometimes people take that the wrong way. I still care and think about people, even when I'm not communicating with them. For me, it's really comforting to know that they're around. I generally have just enough in common with my friends that we can have a good time, but not enough in common that I feel I can open up completely to them. So I have, like, none. A handful. Jo and Alexa seem to want to hang on to me for some reason, when everyone else has left me and my selfish ass behind. It's humbling. And sad.

But...yeah. Alexa calls and I hear her voice for the first time in maybe seven months (unexcusable, because we live on the same island). She asks about me and my folks, I say we're all good (meanwhile my brother is mimicking me and rolling his eyes, because our game of Mario Kart is on hold). I ask her about her med school work, and she tells me she's applied to her first choice schools. All thirty-one of them. I'm all shocked. Thirty-one? And you pay for all those apps, huh? It makes sense, yes, but why do I feel like I'm a fucking slacker when she says that? She's working on sending out the apps to her secondary schools. She says at least ten. I nod and wish her luck, not thinking she'll need it with all the damn schools she's applied to. After a few more minutes I tell her I'll call her tomorrow, hang up, and continue whuppin' major ass in Kart.

I do hope she gets into med school. She deserves it. But it made me realize how poorly I've planned. For everything. I have yet to get my apps ready for my schools. I have yet to check out all the schools I want to go to. I mean, I could theoretically hang out at Hunter for another year, but I've already told my folks I'll be a nurse by 2007. Boxed myself in a corner.

Dammit, man. I'm a slacker. And a miserable human being. Pathetic.