My mother, an Aquarius, is my best friend. She is more concerned about my "love life" than I probably ever will be. She thinks I have problems. She screams at me, a lot. She's always talking about how I'm rarely on time for stuff . . . and how I've the potential to be "quite possibly one of the rudest individuals" she's ever known . . . and how it's taken me four years to complete two point five year's worth of schooling. As of late; eggs have turned me off. As of late; a lot of things have turned me off. Meh. Just meh. Mmmmeh.

I have recently been forced to make a few seemingly undesirable decisions, and am further learning to deal. That being said; some of the changes are bringing about large bouts of stress, and stress, for me, easily gives way to anxiety. I do suffer from a small generalized anxiety disorder, but wonder just how bad the idea of popping an occasional pill might appear to others around me. Would you think me weak for consuming an emergency Xanax or Lexapro to ward off the edge, every now-and-then? Would that automatically grant you feelings of superiority? Would it mean you're stronger? More resilient?
Should I care about what people nearby might think about this scenario? In short, no. But the truth is that I absolutely do. This world is filled with finger-pointing judgmentalists (yes, judgmentalists)--eager to pick at my flaws, and label me someone I more than know I'm not. My relationship with Jesus is solid, and forever shall said solidity remain. Despite this, however, I'm still nowhere near having all of my shit together.

To be completely honest;

I want babies of my own, and am not dissuaded by the children that I teach. I hate that I get a little jelly whenever I see mothers with their offspring, and want the same thing. Times like these make me wish fertile coin-operated boys existed. He'd stfu and give me what I want. The world is ending. The clock ticks on. I cannot believe that the urge within me is this strong (partial rhyming thoroughly unintentional).

To be completely honest;

I think I am truly in love with Roger Ebert, and have heavily contemplated professing said love on his facebook wall. He's married, though (to a black woman, woot!), so I've opted to leave him be.
Hm, I'm also HONGRY. Voraciously so.

Not much has changed . . .

at the church I grew up in.
Mt. Lebanon-Strathmore Church, for ya.

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