Did you know that the human head weighs eight pounds?

I just saw Jerry Maguire for the first time and I AM SUCH A GIRL. I hate this.

Right this very second:
-a train is passing
-olive oil is in my ear.
-people are sleeping.
-my right leg is falling asleep
-my nose is itchy
-I have nothing better to do than think about the tiny things that happen every second of my day.
-I am nervous about the very near future
-I have someone on my mind. No, not them.

I worry that once I stop planning, for camp, for Australia, for school next year, for this play, for camping, for a career, for a birthday party, for reading week, for my new apartment, for all the events that arise, I will go insane. Yet it drives me insane.

I'm a very ambitious girl. I'm also a very lazy girl.

Why did I think I could organize two big things at once???

Still... I'll succeed to some extent. Yes. Please.

Something really doesn't want me to succeed with this summer project. Well. I am going to find that thing, put it in a shopping cart and wheel it off a cliff, after it sees the best children's play it has ever effing seen. I hope.

What happened to community spirit? Why is everyone out for themselves and for money? Not everyone, I'm just frustrated.

Also, I am spending my ENTIRE day at doctor's appointments tomorrow. What a fun week home!

I did watch some fantastic Popular though.

Isn't it insane how you can't have everything you want?

A prof:

"You're looking very attractive today. Are you sick?"

Also...

I HAVE AN AUSTRALIA TICKET.

Also... life is too complicated.

I get off the bus early today, so I can walk in the much needed sunshine. I come across a lemonade stand, not quite hot enough for lemonade but I'm a sucker for kids, particularly business-oriented ones. I give them fifty cents for a "medium," which is a Starbucks cup 3/4 full of a brownish liquid with one ice cube. I take it home, with no intention of drinking it. I hear the kids talking about advertising as I leave. I can't decide if it's beautiful or tragic.

As I approach my big brown building I realize I've lived here for two years. I know four neighbours, only two well enough to talk to. I'm moving soon. I must end this, it can't be good for your well-being to be surrounded by people yet never in actual contact with them. I still see people I've never seen before.

I sit on the front step for half an hour, knowing that when I go inside I'll have to study for an exam I could care less about. I see four buses go north and three buses go south. I see some bikers in spandex suits, one on a cell phone. A woman is washing something on her balcony across the street and yelling into her apartment. I see the water splash a passerby. In the half hour I sit, only one person comes up to the building, she doesn't make eye contact with me, even when I smile in what I hope is a nice way. I just wanted to say hi.

I get up to go in, can't delay studying any longer. A cute little old man is exiting, holding the door for me. He asks have I forgotten my keys? No, just enjoying the sun, it's beautiful out. My new mission? Befriend ONE person in this building before I go.

Adventures of the Overactive Imagination of Meghan

So, I have a pretty crazy imagination. I've always made up scenarios in my head where I convince myself things are true because I fabricated something that could potentially happen. None so bad as two nights ago when I actually convinced myself that I had been poisoned.

Here's how it went: an anonymous neighbour left me an easter egg on my doorstep. I was really pleased, because I found it on a stressful day, and it was a nice surprise. I put it in the apartment and didn't eat it, because haha, I didn't know who it came from and it could be poisoned.

So, a long time after Easter, I decide it's time for chocolate, and I eat this egg, after carefully inspecting the wrapping and the chocolate for signs of having been punctured with a syringe full of poison. I eat it. A few minutes pass and I convince myself that I have a stomachache. I proceed to try and make myself vomit in the bathroom. This is difficult, as I have no gag reflex and haven't thrown up for any reason in about nine years. So dammit, I'm dying from a poisoned egg, what a stupid way to go.

My friend Kyle comes over, and I tell him, "haha, I might be poisoned". He convinces me I'm not. "You need a roommate Meghan."

True story, every word. I'm a loser.

Whoa!

I'm a liar!

Also: AUSTRALIA!

Also: Bailey's!

Add to that: Wow I missed this.