Here we are again. I'm currently sitting at the front desk at work, trying to keep myself awake. I suppose staying up till six-thirty in the morning wasn't one of my best schemes, but I've already proclaimed myself The Queen of Poor Decisions. Here we are again. Summer slipped through my fingers. I can barely remember anything about July. Unfortunately a summer spent working is not really a summer at all. I'm not sure I can say it was better than school. It was less stressful, to say the least. I always find myself at the beginning of things. Last time I wrote here, I was starting a new job, I had a new boyfriend, and I had done so very well in school. I thought perhaps it was the beginning of success for me. Maybe things would be different, and I would not find myself stumbling and groping blindly through life, always doubting that I would make it through. And now, I'm sitting here writing, and I am very much at the beginning of things once more. Before I explain, I have only one thing to say in my defense. I am not depressed. To begin, there is school. I started my third semester of nursing last week. To say the least, I am terrified. I can't afford to fail, and I cannot by any means afford to slack off. A small part of me is very excited. The light at the end of the tunnel is finally visible. The rest of me is curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth. She fears everything before her. Independence, repsonsibility (which I already have a great deal of), and failure. What will I do if I don't make it through? Be the big disappointment like always? I do not have answers. Then there is another ex boyfriend I must check off my list, much to my chargrin. My friends always tell me I know how to pick them. I certainly do. I began to realize very quickly how much of a child he was, and when he tried to take control of my life and my decisions, I blew the whistle on the little bastard and waved goodbye. So that's that. No hurt for me, but another person I have managed to hurt. I left my mark. The last thing. I am sick. It's not something I have ever been able to talk to my family about. It's not something I feel comfortable discussing with my friends. Right now, I'm 5'7" and weigh 112 lbs. I could not tell you the last time I was this light. The clothes I wore in highschool at the height of my physical health are too big on me. The sad thing is, I'm proud. I should not be, but I am. I see pictures of myself at a healthy weight, and it disgusts me. I wont write about it. I don't feel comfortable. There is very little else to say. My family is well. My brother and his wife are expecting our first grandchild in October. I realized today while looking through pictures from the past couple of years that I've missed out on a lot. I'm never around, and in every picture where everyone else is smiling and happy, I'm not there. Once again, I have to say, I am NOT depressed. I'm very happy. I suppose it is how busy I am that makes me the way I am. That is all I have to say. There are linens to be folded and pediatrics to be studied.