One Weekend Left

There's only one weekend left.

It is time. I'm ready.
I need it to end so I can launch into hibernation. Forget the wild freedom I feel out there, and continue settling into this being a grown up thing.

This year came in hard after months, MONTHS of counting down. 5am text messages to Wardo. I could only be there both days for the first two weekends (except for last week, when I skipped work...) so I partied as hard as I could. With mixed results.

I began to fear that I did not in fact learn from last year, that I am still young and dumb...
Wait... I am DEFINITELY still young and dumb. Just a bit more aware.

One particular weekend, I drank so much that the night before was hazy. I saw people I didn't remember meeting the next day. Others reminded me of conversations I'd forgotten having had. I crawled into tents I certainly should NOT have crawled into.

I crawled out.

The whole next day I spent dreading the first person to say something. No one did... Until the last half hour when Andy was like, "Lily! I've been telling noobs to take it easy! You know better."

Yyyyup.

After that and bowing down in worship to Anna one night which was "cute" I've pulled it together. So hard that I went to bed without even going to the BLT after the talent show, only to find out that my friends had been, "Those girls" after all this time of me being THAT girl on my own.

I worry a lot.

But this has been a great year.

Highlights include:
Being a full-fledged member of the Morris community.
Bowing down to, and consequently maybe almost befriending Anna.
Staying verticle and only making out a little bit each night.
Making out a little bit each night.
My pretend turned real courtship of Sir Marcus resulting in mature conversation and potential friendship.
Not chickening out of the Talent Show, even though it wasn't THAT great.
Mindy, Manny, Wardo, Jenny, Twan.
...Mindy, Manny, Wardo, Jenny, Twan.
Corinna, Sweet Lou, Rachel, Andy.
Tweet.
Bill.
Seamus.
MossMan.
Gator Gal.
That herp night with all the wine.
Boys.
Boys. Boys. Boys.
Kisses.
Wisdom.

In lieu of a light reflection on the beauty of the seasons

I woke up this morning with cramps.
I grew worried that last week's ordeal isn't over. Then I got annoyed with the most unabraisive person in the world. Then I wanted to cry. So, I checked my calendar.

Oh.

I called my phone company to upgrade, but I already signed the ice cream thing and waited too long. Service rep was snotty, "Your email exchange was on August 14th, that was lyk, almost like a MONTH ago, and you're a dumbass." More or less.

I did cry. And called my mom.

She said to think of all the women before me who dealt with this before medication. They made it.

Or ended up institutionalized...

WOOOO!

I want to write about the beauty of autumn. About what this summer ended up being like. How I made it through Eco Rangers with fond memories. How the Renaissance Festival is in full swing. But all that's on my mind right now is that it's Thursday. I go to work soon, won't get home till nearly bed time, and then it's run run run till Saturday, at which time I probably won't be able to get a ride till Sunday morning, and consequently miss Beer for Boobs. Life is hard.

There are only 91 days left of the Conservation Corps. I can't wait for it to be over, I hate 10 hour days. I hate dealing with poor supervisors (Your handbook says you're not supposed to work when it's a million degrees? Well, in the past we've just had crews work through it. Yeah. I hate you too).

There's nothing I can do about it, so I need to continue the mindset of it being my sentence. That helped with Eco Rangers... but... Eco Rangers is done, and I'm still here.

Not to mention all the other crap I'm dumping on myself right now; worrying about "what's next" because that's all anyone cared about at the wedding. Whatever.