.....

To the guy who categorized how I ate my ice cream: please don't read this journal anymore. Thank you.

To the rest of you: My head doesn't want to focus on anything today. I woke up with a bit too little sleep but I don't think that's it. I'm confused. Yesterday left me with a lot of questions. I'm wondering if I'll regret not kissing him. I'm wondering if I would have regreted it if I had. I'm wondering why I'm so tired. I know I didn't get enough sleep and I know sitting on my arse for the past few hours didn't help anything (but I did see Prelude to a Kiss, French Kiss, and the last hour of Coyote Ugly, which is still on, all of which are good). I couldn't fall asleep last night because of questions racing through my mind. But I know I made the right decision, right? I hesitated enough times that I know I made the right decision. I was supposed to make the first move. Apparently, when I didn't, he didn't want to wait so he tried but I said one word, "go". Just one word and I was depressed for the next two and a half hours. I changed my mood with one song and baked some cookies. I need a good cry. That's what I need. To cry my soul out. Hell, to cry myself to sleep. I always wake up refreshed when I cry myself to sleep if it's big, heart breaking sobs. Guess what I'll be doing tonight is drowning my sorrows in Moulin Rouge and Gone With the Wind. Too bad I gave that copy of Message in a Bottle to the library. It always makes me cry. Oh, I can read the end of The Guardian and cry my eyes out! Yay! lol How sad is this? I'm going nuts over the prospect of bawling. Time for the advil and a chocolate chip cookie.

(This is taking a lot of courage to hit save and I don't know why. It shouldn't but it is. I never write anything that doesn't get saved though and I won't start now.)