I work, Monica, and I think about work, and I freak out about work, and I think about how much I think about work, and I freak out about how much I think about how much I think about work, and I think...
I waste at least an hour every day lying in bed. Then I waste time pacing. I waste time thinking. I waste time being quiet and not saying anything because I'm afraid I'll stutter.
I want my brain to slide back into the slot it was meant to be in, rest there the way it did before the fall of last year, back when I was young, witty, and my teachers said I had incredible promise.
I should be a success and I'm not and other people- younger people- are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting their lives in order. I'm still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?
I had hurt her feelings, I found out later; I didn’t know I had that power.
Forget the midlife crisis, I say. It’s all about the sixth-life crisis.
Because if you keep living like this you'll die.
You have to be the prude or the slut, and if you pick one, other people hate you for it, and you can't trust anyone anymore, because they're all after the same thing, and you see that you can never go...
When you mess something up, you learn for the next time.
That made me happy. That was my Anchor.
Sometimes we call those girls sluts. Do you think she had a boyfriend when she was eight?
Life's not about feeling better, it's about getting the job done.
I’m not better, you know. The weight hasn’t left my head. I feel how easily I could fall back into it, lie down and not eat, waste my time and curse wasting my time, look at my homework and freak out...
I wish the world were like this, if I just woke up and marked the food I’d be eating and it came to me later in the day. I suppose it is like that, except you have to pay for whatever you want to eat,...
I was in some one else's house, so I woke up early - at eight - with that crazy sleeping-at-someone-else's-house energy.
Do you even know who the enemy is?I think... it's me.
And I always look like I’m about to cry.
Well, my dad died when I was three. Shoot. That’s right. Some of us have actual things to complain about.
They always said on TV you could do anything you wanted, but here I was trying to do something and it wasn't working. I would never be able to do it.
That's all I can do. I'll keep at it and hope it gets better.