I'm in the music annex. Sitting at a table. It's after seven and instead of on the road to Gainesville, I'm here. Doing nothing. Going nowhere. Left behind. Helluva week it's been. I truly feel like I know how poor David After Dentist feels: struggling to maintain some sort of equilibrium; grasping at every piece of solitidy I can muster(I have five fingers); helplessly (and futilely) demanding, "Why is this happening to me??" as my uphill trek takes another downturn. Why did my phone have to break the week communication was severely lacking in the first place and I would need a back-up? Why could I not find a charger for my spare until I could get a replacement? Why could I not fin on person I could count on to drive me to the T-Mobile store and back? Or even to the T-Mobile store and a bus stop? Why was I without transportation during a week I was too sick to walk everywhere? And why isn't anyone helping me? I still feel that same illogical confusion I did on the way to the office walking with the traffic. Is this going to be forever? Always trying, but my very best not being up to snuff.Always pushing but never quite having the strength. Always reaching but without the proper extension. It's not fair, and I'm tired. I AM TIRED. Please, oh God, please, don't let me be normal. I can't take fighting for extraordinary and only coming out mediocre for the rest of my life. I can only take so many steps before I fall.

I bet Stacy thinks I decided not to go. I told her I was going. I swear if she asks me if I decided not to go, I will scream. I don't want to scream. I want to cry. I always want to cry. I wanted to go. I fought to go. I still want to go. But it doesn't matter now. What I want never mater and I always let it hurt me. DAMMIT! How is it that I have absolutely no control over anything and everything that happens is absolutely my fault? It's my fault my phone is broken because I should've taken better care of it. It's my fault I have no computer because I opted for a cheap one. It's my fault I got to Tucker Hall late because I should've anticipated my sickness slowing my stride and planned to leave sooner. It's my fault I didn't turn back when I first got here because I assumed that, since it was before seven, I still had chance. It's my fault I don't have a new phone becuase I didn't suck it up and walk to the store. And there's nothing I can do about any of it now but sing the shoulda-coulda-wouldas and hope for tomorrow. Hope until I fall into despair.

I truly am weary and sick of trying. It's as if with every step I take, the road stretches longer and another cluster of cars whizzes by. They make it look so easy, it seems like I'm not trying at all. But I am. I'm trying so hard and my effort isn't worth even the tears that come when I can't hold them back anymore after I fail. I fail. Over and over I fail. It's exhausting, working so hard to be a failure. Running away from mediocracy within the walls that my circumstances create. All I can do is keep trying, keep hoping, keep running, until (God willing) a door opens.