Goddamnit

Overate today, don't feel my very best.

Starting data entry tomorrow. Remember, it's only a year. Then theatre school.

Sometimes I wonder if I really want to go. I really do. But then people get enthusiastic about me doing other things and I think, oh, maybe I'm not right about what I want. Maybe they know better because they're wiser or because I don't know myself.

Maybe I should just not worry, because even if I make the wrong decisions about myself, I can say at least that I have made them and noone else has. And who knows me better than I know myself? Noone.

Here are the people I still want to tell about theatre school:

three of my friends from University, the two that complete our set of five and one that's a brilliant actress.
Lady of the House.

The latter is a silly choice. Lady of the House would wonder why I would want to... or she wouldn't. She might think that I'm silly, or drifty or flippant about my life choices. I'm just trying to be realistic.

It might be nice to have her as someone I could take things to, to ask if I was doing alright or not with scripts or whatever.

It might be damn awful and I'd get as nervous as I do in front of Mum and Dad.