SHIT!!!!

What's Wrong With Me?

Actually, nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I'm a completely normal person. In fact, if I were listening to someone else ask why they're screwed and the ways in which they are, I could very well convince them why they aren't screwed up, and all those so-called reasons are just normal things in life that a person goes through.
And yet, I still think there might be something wrong. But that's usually the case. I always think something's wrong, or even hope it, so that when the "test results" come out with the proof, I will have my 15 min. of fame (it always comes back to the attention thing, doesn't it?).
Do I know nothing is wrong with me? Yes.
Do I wish something were wrong so I could get attention? Maybe.
Do I wish something were wrong so I could have proof of it, proof that I need fixing? Yes.

I'm so sick of the desperate feeling that I'm so comfortable with. Which, again, is really just another word for attention-seeking.

Anyway, the title of this blog begs an answer. Many answers. SO DON'T ANYONE HOLD BACK!
(I once tried a self-help list. It was pretty short)

Back to Therapy, for now

So much for my theory of my diary being a good replacement-therapist. But then, I already knew that there are only so many words in the English language. And likewise, only so many times the same people can listen to those same words, and give the same responses before everyone in the picture gets fed up.
The good thing is, this therapist is free. Some donator to the hospital pays for her to council the hospital staff. I suppose it's a wonder she was able to squeeze me in at all.

Funny Funny Funny-Hahaha

Before I begin, Batya, this isn't a story, it's an episode in Ayelet's chapters of Chaos at the Ungar-Sargons soap opera.
This guy who volunteers in Internal Medince B, whom I've only met once before but talked to for awhile, likes me. I'm just wondering if it's because my hair looked amazing and I was wearing very sexy silver hoops. Anyway, he came to E.N.T.E looking for a girl who works in the eye clinic (so he claimed he was doing). We stood around talking for a few minutes, and then I really did have to get back to work, so we both went our ways. Later I hear the head nurse of E.N.T.E calling me, and saying that I was mean. At first I thought I neglected to do something I had committed to and then she told me that this guy was obviously hitting on me, sincerely, and I brushed him off. I protested that I actually spent a few minutes talking to him, that I really did have work to get back to, and I was finally being good at playing hard to get.
But then my friend who works in E.N.T.E said that when you play hard to get you need to also send a vibe that there is a possibility for success. And that if I really did want him like I did all the cute soldiers who come in with swollen, puffy eyes, I would have stayed longer to talk to him.
Eh, who knows. Truth is, I'm not free because I'm not looking and not because I'm "with" Dovid. Also, it's a nice feeling to be wanted and not want. Especially when it's not really hurting anyone by not wanting back.
Btw, anyone going to sum up the Schluffykep episode on their blog, Batya?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's the latest episode in my part of the Ungar-Sargon Soap Opera:
Findlay was almost out the window because of the dorm situation. Men basically have free access to the all-girls' dorm and, ES, as wonderful as premarital sex may be, I don't want to walk in on my roommates making out with their boyfriends, or have to worry about leaving my undies and bras lying around, and the University wouldn't let me board in Toledo by a family and make the commute.
So I looked into Bar Ilan. I wasn't happy about it, in fact, I was miserable all weekend about having to give up on the place that could help me fulfill my dreams. You guys may not know this but while I was considering BIU for full time university, I was thinking of going into law. It interests me a lot.
But I didn't want to give up on Findlay so easily. Sooooooooo, bottom line-I had an interview today with the dean of undergrads at BIU, and during my shift I made my decision: I will do core curriculum at BIU for one year, gather credits, and then transfer to Findlay for sophomore year and onward. It's the only way I can go to Findlay and I get to check out criminology, psychology and everything else there. Plus, Yisroel says there's quite a hang-out scene on campus, and I think, not sure, Mr. Kindness might still be there.
So, hopefully it will all work out.
It made me feel really good that bird was happy at the prospect of my staying another year Israel, it really touched me.