Monday, August 11, 1997 -- In a pissy mood ...
...But it's all my fault.		Well, I haven't written in here for over a week now, and it's not because I don't have anything to say, or don't have the time. I haven't really made the time. I'm not ready to give this journal up. I'm not too happy with my writing yet, but that will come along as I do more and more. I'm not really upset about the journal. It's just getting the shaft like everything else in my life, while I try to avoid doing it. I'm so pissed off today at myself, and life in general, that I'm angry enough to write this. I think it will help, and that I'd be in a generally better mood if I had been writing this thing all along. I don't just write this for people to read, you know, I write this for me. This is all there is, no paper journal with my secret thoughts in it, no other journals at all. This is it. And I write about everything,except other people (which excludes me talking about my sex life, which is fine, now thanks). No, I've been avoiding life, which is always a bad sign. What is wrong? I don't know. I can't believe that it's all tied up in my court appearance tomorrow, although I haven't done anything to help with that. Like talk to a public defender, or pay my tickets, or well, anything. I have no idea what will happen (still) and of course I'm worried about that. And pissed off at myself for not doing anything about it. Why do I do this to myself? Why is it, that as I sit here at my desk, contemplating courses of action, that I freeze up, shudder, and shake it off? Then I try to think of alternate ways, I try to convince myself to walk into that court room unprepared and unaware. I just thought to myself, I'll go see the public defender, just like I've thought to myself just about every day for the past four weeks. Why do I avoid these things, why does it hurt so much to try and deal with this? God, I'm crying. What is going on? [later] I decided to just go to the damn Public Defender's Office. I walked down there, getting shin splints in my leg, only to discover that I didn't have a public defender. They told me I could be re-evaluated tomorrow, if I told them in court. Maybe this can put my destiny off for a bit longer, maybe it will get me a PD, maybe it will help me get a grasp on things. We'll see. I really need a counsellor, but I'm getting ready to fly out to St.Louis for several weeks. Maybe when I get back. I still don't know what my problem is. Generic Joe's A Typical Male