I ate a donut.

To tell you the truth, I don't feel guilty about it at all. It was three in the morning, I was in Chinatown with Jen, and we were very drunk. We stumbled into a donut shop to wait out the drunkenness (a girl's gotta drive, but not immediately after slamming down three Tom Collinses) and the smell was unbelievable. Completely irresistible. And there it was in the case: a round little donut with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. And there I was, drunk, inhaling the ambrosial fragrance of donuts.

On top of that, I had had a really emotionally intense day (sorry for the drunken rant, notify listees) and as it turned out, I was getting my period on top of that. I needed a chocolate sprinkle donut on about seventeen different levels. Really, it's a miracle that I only ate one. It was the best-tasting thing ever. That sugar aversion thing? Not happening. I don't know if I've ever enjoyed chocolate so much.

We're just going to chalk it up as collateral damage and finish out the month sugar-free. I've got tons of energy these days, my pants are fitting better, and I'm feeling chock full-o-willpower. So who cares? Besides, a girl needs a little sin in her life.

Or a lot, even!

You'd think I would have figured it out by now. The reason I am always so busy is because I'm not happy unless I'm busy. Isn't it obvious?

Of course there's always that point when life starts to feel overwhelming, and I think I've reached it. This was day two of my ten-hour tutoring training. I'm totally psyched up for my new job and I think I'll be great at it, but it is requiring a great deal of mental energy-- I have to study hard this weekend to pass a test on Monday. Not only to pass the test: to feel prepared to take on my first clients. Eek!

In addition, I am doing two sets (poetry readings) at the festival on Saturday. I have to find sexy and defiant poems to read because, after all, the Useless Shagging Bastard will be there, on stage with me as I read them. So I need to read poems that say, subtly, "You were a fool to give up the chance to be with me because I am the most amazing girl who ever lived!" Even if I don't feel that way at all. Even if I feel more like throwing up whenever I think about him.

More importantly than my raging girl-emotions, I'd like to read from my thesis manuscript, and I have a lot of revising to do on the latest batch before I feel as if they're ready to read. So if you're keeping track, that's 1) Study hard to pass test on Monday, and 2) Revise poems for Saturday, and 3) Perform at festival on Saturday and get very drunk in order to be able to face the aforementioned USB.

That's manageable, right? Except that I also have two closing shifts at work: Friday and Sunday. Eight hour shifts, both of them. And also on Sunday, my NEW BED is being delivered, although Jen has graciously offered to save my life by coming over and waiting for it. My only hope is to try not to get TOO drunk on Saturday, or at least to stop drinking at a reasonable hour so I can get some work done Saturday night and Sunday morning.

And then Hannah called, and I told her I'd be willing to take TEN HOURS of proofreading for this weekend also.

AM I HIGH?!? Have I possibly been SMOKING THE CRACK?

Keep in mind, I told her this before the tutoring training, before I realized just how much studying I would have to do this weekend. If I was smart, I would have scheduled the test for sometime later in the week than Monday, but I looked at my work schedule and it was the only day that would fly. Which means of course that I won't get to work on tips until Tuesday...

Oh, the stress. My blood pressure. I think I need a donut.

There is other excitement in the air.

I spent a lot of money over the past two days and wiped out half of my savings account (which explains why I was all, hell yes, give me proofreading work!) but I bought all kinds of stuff: an incredible queen-sized bed, a vacuum that actually works, a pair of Skechers, and some new clingy-type clothes.

Believe it or not, taken individually, I got great deals on everything I bought. And I used my savings for the bed purchase, not a credit card. My plan to pay off my debt has not been derailed. And I might be working harder than ever in the near future, but at least I will be making decent money for a change.

And also... there's this guy. God, listen to me. It's so premature to talk about it, and yet I can't help myself! I'm used to spilling my guts and I'm in that swirly, giddy, oh-so-annoying stage. "No really, I swear, this time it's different!"

Well, we'll see.