After yet another drama filled Friday night, I found that I was unable to sleep when I got home, which pissed me off since I made it a point to be home early. I was in bed by 12:30 am, earlier than the 3 am outings I’ve been pulling lately. I tossed, I turned, I watched ‘That’s So Raven’, and I couldn’t fall asleep. I finally gave up and stared at ceiling of my bedroom and eventually dozed off.
In addition to the drama, one thing that was bothering me is I think I can feel my liver. For those of you who don’t know, you’re never supposed to be able to feel your liver, but I think I can feel it there in my right upper quadrant, swelling in anger at the amount of detoxicifying I’ve been forcing it to do lately. There, there little liver, I start working a week from Monday, you can make it through.
I can’t wait to start working. I’m finding that I need something to do or I don’t get out of bed. I’ve decided to make studying at the Crazy Mocha my job and have been here this week just as much as I’ve been at Jack’s.
Tonight… well, I think if I step foot in that place one more time I may start to hate it, so I’m not going back for awhile. I’d like to stay home and veg, read and get my room back in order after all the furniture moving I did earlier this week, but I have a feeling I’ll end up doing something. Even though what I really want is to pretend no one else in the worl exists and allow my liver to shrink back to normal size before tomorrow night.
New Year’s Eve. Eeep. Sorry, liver, you can’t quit on me now.
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