It is now Friday. Yesterday was the kind of day I love and I had such a good time that it makes me sad because I know I probably won't have another one like it for a long time. Sitting on the roof watching the sun set over the mountains. Going to Wal-Mart at 11 p.m. to buy a Bratz notebook and a vanilla frappuccino. Watching House Hunters with Mom. It was all just too good, this is what a family is. I miss that when it's gone, when it's just me or me and my mom, and she comes home from work tired and the sun sets early and I have to go to work and then come home to an empty house. I know we will soon return to those days and thinking about it makes me sad.

I've been debating the future. My grad school app is on its way. What the hell am I doing? I don't know. I was all psyched up to do it a month ago, now I find myself waffling. What do I really want to do with the rest of my life? I don't know. Am I limiting myself too much? Am I getting a useless degree? Part of me wants to do the following: work full-time hours, either get another job or find a full-time job and move out of the house into my own place. Just to say I'm on my own. Let things stabilize, get some work experience, have some independence. Tech writing seems like a fine field to get into, but two more years in school is a lot. Or maybe I should just not work and focus on that, try to get out as fast as possible. Then off to work. Work, work, work. Jobs are imperfect things. What is it that I really want to do? Part of me wants to be crazy and be like f*** that, let me just be totally impractical and study useless things like music and Italian and poetry and then work a dummy job and travel around the world. Then come home broke and happy. Sounds like fun. Part of me wants to write 1,000 Places to See Before You Die. I am turning into such a slacker, totally impractical, totally clueless about all things career-oriented.