My Titration

Didn't go to 8 am class.

Not going to 9 am class.

Don't plan on going to work at 10.

I just don't want to do anything. I don't want to do my reading or my homework or my paper. Or study for my midterm tomorrow. I don't want to get up to brew coffee, and I don't even plan on getting dressed until there are people around besides my apartmentmates.

I want all my problems to solve themselves because I can't find a way to solve any of them on my own. I wish I could take back every stupid selfish rant I've ever written and quit depressing everyone around me, both in reality and in cyberspace.

I'm going to flunk this quarter. I've already managed to alienate my friends. And considering all these days I've been calling in sick, I wouldn't be surprised if I lost my job as well.

I wouldn't be surprised if all of that really did happen. In fact, I'd be surprised if it didn't all happen. For all of you who don't already know, life tends to shit on me. I've been averaging around a death every two months, so it looks like I'm not due for another death until late November, give or take. So something else has got to give between now and then.

Crumble, Jennifer. You're already starting to. It's like an acid-base titration. That phenolphthalein is all there, just waiting to turn fuschia. You see little glimmers of pink with every drop from the pipette, but everything still looks clear so far. You know that one of these drops... it's getting closer and closer... is going to turn the whole damn flask pink. It's just a matter of waiting. And watching.

One drop? Fifty drops? All I know is that I'm right on the threshold of losing it and be it tonight or two weeks from now, I have no way to judge. All I know is that my tolerance for being alive is almost gone.

I hate life so much right now.