What a mundane term.

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1. Be at my goal weight and or girth by my birthday [one-hundred-and-thirty pounds; a size eight or nine; February twenty-second].

2. Maintain three classes at the very least each semester at Las Positas [and hopefully, potentially transfer into Monterey].

3. Obtain my license by the start of Summer.

4. Purchase a vehicle, and then find a more desirable retail job than Party City [also by Summer].

5. ... Begin drawing again. p:

My sleep has been poor; I have had two, as Carol, Mike's mother, calls them, "migraines" and my teeth ache. I tasted blood earlier. I lay about in a half awake state for hours, so subdued by wanting rest that I will not shut out the sunrise ... But frustrated enough to shift about anxiously.

I told an associate a week or so ago that I felt angry, and restless. My life is currently quite perfect. Living with the Hoovers is fantastic. I felt there was something I was missing. He told me to calm down. The battle is over. I should enjoy myself.

I assumed, some-what, that this negative energy is likely due to having gone from an environment of constant issues to a situation where I can relax; and I don't know how to do that. I also realize that I ... Am not QUITE taking this slendidness for granted, so much as I am not embracing its full potential.

I have a slight feeling that I have seasonally-induced depression. That, or it may be another simple excuse for why I allow myself to think too long and hard on painful or awful subjects. My complaints are minimal. I haven't anything wrong than a mental persistence that I haven't fixed everything.

I determined that I may see my therapist, Beth Christensen, some time soon. I finally retrieved her cellular number from Krista today and may call her tomorrow. I don't need help; more or less, I require a place where I can project what is on my mind and have her put words to my emotions. I have definitely decided that were I of such talent of labeling all I think, that, well, I would not be so emotionally flustered.

I have come to terms with the fact that I am definitely paranoid. Fortunately, Mike understands, for the most part; and what he does not, I am able to render him into getting it. When he is not unhappily working upon his essay I am going to request that he ask Ariana to give his sweatshirt to Stone tomorrow, as I am hanging out with the latter lad and Elli and would be able to fetch it. I absolutely know to the core of things that he hasn't an fancy with her; such would be ludicrous. But my mind plays out horrid fantasies, and his lack of care in getting the possession back ramped up my worry for a bit.

-Hands up.- I make things into a larger deal than they truly are. Nothing is wrong. I merely over-calculate and over-analyze.

We're both very excited for Christmas. :3 This will be a great year.