Sometimes I place these outrageously unrealistic expectations on myself.
Like now, by the time Friday June 7 rolls around, I expect myself to pack my entire life into my VW Beetle, go to work on time, spend as much time with my sister as possible, eat, make homemade watercolored cards for my two teachers, my fellow para, my roommate, and my sister&brother-in-law, take all my medicine at the appropriate times, plan a last hurrah with my pals, do all the North Dakota activities I didn’t get to in this year and a half, all while being a weepy, scared, anxious, depressed piece of shit with absolutely no motivation to leave my bed.
Okay, Mia.
Good plan.












