What Next?

This weekend my car broke down, I watched my sister try on four different colours of the same fucking pants, walked at least thirteen miles in downtown Toronto, almost broke up with my boyfriend, decided I wasn't going to go to school, convinced myself to see a doctor about the blood that's been dripping out of my ass for past two weeks, almost quit my job AND forgot to screw my gas cap back on at the pumps, and now my car reeks of gasoline because it's spiling down the side.

Awesome.

Everything's a bit too overwhelming right now. I feel like I've been stuffed into a pressure cooker and as the time is slowly tick-tocking away, all my fears and frustrations are slowly boiling over the sides. It fucking sucks.

My mental breakdown occured in my sister's Accord on the way to Toronto. She said she thought I was slacking artistically because I wasn't around people who inspired me.

No shit.

She hinted at Andrew not possibly being a good match for me and all the, "what if's" that I've had on instant replay for the past two weeks came tumbling out.
I realised that everything I was doing was for him. I realised that I didn't want to be a Pastry Chef and that I was just doing it because I couldn't think of anything else to do, and that ultimately, was stupidly stressed out about moving in together.

I lost all the marbles this weekend and now, after realising all the things that I need to do, rather than all the things I had planned to do, I'm even more stressed out, 'cause HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO TELL DIANNE THAT I'M NOT GOING TO SCHOOL?

Fuck.

Andrew says not to worry about it, that I shouldn't care about what anyone else thinks about my decisions, but I'm right worried.
I'm worried that Andrew and I need to break up because I really doubt I'll be able to live with him. I'm worried that I have no idea what to do with myself and I'm tired of being poor and oblivious to what's happening next. I'm worried about my health and my stupid fucking piece of shit Tercel and entirely too stressed because I know it's time for me to move out, 'cause this living at home bullshit needs to be over.

And on top of it all, my allergies have exploded and they are now being aided by my asshole neighbour who is cutting his front lawn.

My poor nose.

I just want to sleep. Sleep and sleep and sleep. And before that would have worried me, but lately I've realised that I have too high of a work ethic to be depressed.