My stomach is seriously out of whack and I'm starting to have panic attacks again about eating.

I was at dinner with Karin and we were talking about therapy and her therapist in particular who uses movement, clay and painting and things as her methods. She was describing some experiences of hers and I just burst into tears. It was then obvious to me that I had some stuff pent up that I haven't been acknowledging. I've been pretty busy lately, starting school, working, homework, balancing social with me time and busy time. I haven't been sleeping well, and I think I figured that part out.

I'm still sad about a lot of things. I'm having trouble with my physical situation, I have this cold sore that doesn't look particularly nice at all, especially since I'm going to this reunion tomorrow.

I have the reunion tomorrow, that's a little stressful.

I don't know. I talked to Cameron briefly today and he informed that his wife did not, in fact, wear the pink bathrobe before I did. I was the first one. So there goes that comfort. I was using that image as a reason for me to not feel so posessive of the ridiculous item. Now I see that it was unique and special to me, and she's fucking wearing it.

I'm still petty, I'm still sad. That really stung, that small, insignificant thing. She mentioned to him that she was wearing the toque I had made for him too. I don't know if she guessed at or could figure out the impact it had on me, but she at least was aware. I do take it as a compliment in a way - her family sells wool and they're all master knitters. But anyway... what's the point.

So there went that security blanket, and I'm a little sorry I had the conversation with him this morning. It sent my day in a strange off-spun direction.

Also, twice now, I've had the opportunity to say hello to someone I admire, and quite unlike myself, I let it pass by both times. I coudn't summon the courage to say "Hi, I'm Arianna, we've had nice email conversations". He walked right past me today while I waited at the bank machine, and I could have shouted out his name, laughed and said, Isn't this funny? How are you. But I didn't. I just let him walk on by. Now, if he saw me standing there, and I finally introduce myself to him (we haven't met face to face, though I've seen him perform and we've exchanged a few emails) he might remember me as the girl in the ATM line up staring at him?

Meh.

I'm just tired. I'm so so so tired, and I don't know which way to feel. I want to explore this sad thing that's lurking, but I can't for some reason.

Instead I'm going to take a bath, read, and fall asleep.