I was up until 1:00 am finishing a paper last night, and this wasn't due to my usual disorganization. This was because the paper was part of a group project, and one of the group members didn't get her materials to me until 6:00pm yesterday (the original deadline was Friday). This person then has the nerve to ask DJ and I (DJ being the other member of the group) to talk after class. So we step into the hallway, and she launches into this whole thing about how she doesn't feel included or comfortable in the group and she doesn't want to be treated like a baby and she's all stressed out and blah, blah, blah. The best part of this whole tirade is her comment that DJ and I can't understand her because we manage our stress and have 'perfect little lives'. I guess it just goes to show that other people's perception is their reality; I never feel like I'm handling anything the right way, but to her, I am.
Then I go to therapy, and spend 20 minutes talking about how angry I am at this person, and the next 20 minutes analyzing exactly why I sent M an e-mail yesterday after my resolution to never ever contact him again, and then the remaining 10 minutes crying my eyes out.
Obviously, the only remedy for this kind of day (other than climbing into bed and pulling the covers up over my head) is an iced venti skim mocha and a slice of oatmeal banana bread.
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