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Why have I never listened to Radiohead before? "Creep" makes so much sense to me.

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*WARNING: rant ahead. Read further at your own risk.*

I guess it's now time for the big depressive rant I promised. I don't know. It occurred to me that I feel kind of guilty about complaining here all the time. Granted my sister, and therefore the long distance bill are getting tired of my whining, but still. There are so many wonderful, brilliant, all-around nice people out there, that turn to Diaryland as I do- as a place to vent. What am I trying to say? I guess that I feel guilty about adding my silly problems to the mix. "It's my diary and I'll cry if I want to." I don't know about that. I feel like it's the least I can do to write about the most recent inane incident at work or a book I read or something I saw on TV or some crazy list to make up or some kind of stupid trivial incident to take my mind, and maybe someone else's, off of things. So when I don't have a silly story to relate or some other kind of babble, I guess I feel unreasonably guilty. I'm just a woefully apologetic wretch of a person and for that I am sorry (see, there I go again!). I hate to be a disappointment or a bother to people. I hate to get sucked down into that spiral of depression and disappointment. I begin to think about things like this:

-The chamber orchestra conductor never did get in touch with me. I guess they don't need a piccolo. I can't understand why not, because every December concert of theirs I've been to had two flutes and a piccolo, and they generally play similar music every year... I've also let myself down even more by letting the fact that I'm not in the silly chamber orchestra

-I seem to miss friends every time they come home for a weekend. I look forward to seeing people so much that it just really sucks when there is some stupid reason in the way.

-What's worse is that I have friends that are still close anyway that I don't see either.

-I'm still bothered about the game over at school that my dad went to. He had extra tickets. Inviting me was not an option.

-I've done none of the things I was supposed to be doing the past three months. I have a stupid job that pays peanuts, so I still can't afford a new flute. I still don't have a license. It seems like there have been many with the good intentions to take me out driving but none panned out. I have cracked open a history or theory textbook at all, to study for the entrance exams. In short, I'm in no better a place to go away to school than I was in August. The flute teacher there said I should let her know of my plans by December 12. I'm too transparent. I know I'm not ready to go and so does she. Last January I might have had potential. I might have played with "passion" enough to get into the school. Lack of confidence and lack of passion seem to go together, to describe my playing these days. My biggest disappointment in this area? Myself.

So you see? I whine and moan about the same crap all the time. I'm sure it gets old. So I feel guilty. Maybe someday I'll grow up and stop being such a big baby. This probably won't be happening soon.

Ok, I guess that's about it.

*end whine session*

Oh joy. They just called me in to work tonight. Maybe I'll have something silly to write about then. Have a lovely afternoon.

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