I’m Sane, I Promise

by karinaaax03

Dear James,

So I haven’t written a blog for you in what seems like ages, and I have no excuse. Well, other than getting a new job and moving into a new apartment, but I assume you won’t accept that.


I figure this is appropriate based on the location of my new home.

I’d like to say that nothing much has changed since the last time I typed up a post, but that’d be a lie (obviously, since I literally just mentioned a new job/apartment). Outside of the obvious, there’s also been some other nutty things happening both in my life and in my head, many of which you know of already.

To comment on my mental state, which seems to be how I go about writing my posts, it’s been slightly above average up until a few days ago. Blame it on PMS, on the stress of moving, or simply on a decaying mental state, but every time I look at a calendar or simply think of how little time is left (In what? Don’t ask me, ask my psyche), I break out in a nervous panic.

This is certainly not the first time in my life that the mere thought of a calendar has sparked pure anxiety, and I’m sure it won’t be the last (can’t wait until you have to deal with me when my wedding is approaching), but it’s highly inconvenient. With everything going on in my life right now (well, mostly everything) you think I’d be the most excited 20-something on the planet. And I am excited, don’t get me wrong. But I just can’t shake this impending sense of doom. Maybe I’m scared that I’m seeing another 40+ years of working 5 days a week ahead of me, or maybe I’m scared that I’m not taking full advantage of my summer months (but does it really matter though?) either way, the panic has been real.

I’ve done a pretty good job of talking myself off the ledge, though. I’m trying to really embrace the little things and enjoy them fully, because even though I have like 2 friends in this state and maybe 4 friends total (I’m being generous) I’ve got good friends and that’s all that really matters.

I’m hoping this impending sense of doom will go away in a couple days. Fuck it, I’ll even take a couple months, as long as it goes away. If it doesn’t, you might find me working on a farm or some shit in Europe sooner than originally anticipated.

I’m not insane, I swear.

All my loving,

The Basic One