when we shatter we form pretty patterns on the sidewalk

Well......just well. Since the last time I wrote I have talked much with many people. Actually I haven't really. I stil haven't completely tackled the way I let Stever down and I might not for a while. But it's out there and I feel a little less fake. And that's a good thing. Being or feeling fake is neither fun nor easy.

I like my job. It fits me. It's about the only thing that actually does. But hey it's still something. I just have to be on time. Being on time is going to be the bane of my existence. Truly it is. But I shall do it. It's going to take work.

As usual Andrew is Andrew. And things with Andrew are things with Andrew. I don't like them but I don't hate them either. They just are. It's the way my life has always been. Things just are. I can't have any control over anything because everyone else has to have it.

There are more and more instances popping up where I wish I was a little less stupid. A little smarter. Better. I just want to be better. Less of a slut. Less of an idiot. Less of a bad daughter. You know, despite my many many complaints, I love my parents. I'd just like to be right once in a while. I'd like to do/say the right thing. I'd like just for once to be looked at as right. Maybe I never will. That's depressing when you think about it. Which is why I don't. At least I try not to. But every now and again it pops up.