I am seriously dying inside. Lying to my parents, the prospect of having no one to pick me up when I get there (i.e. having to search through a huge city I've never been to for a cheap motel or living on the streets of the same for three days), my mom not letting go of the terminal thing, not knowing my seat number, another sort of close call where the prof phoned me up about telling me how to get to the place we're going to stay, but I managed to cover it because we'd also been talking about theater tickets....all filling me with anxiety to the zillionth degree.

I've not been able to sleep well for ages, and my stomach constantly feels ill. FREAKING READ YOUR E-MAIL AND E-MAIL ME BACK, WANDA. And, WORLD, STOP PUNISHING ME FOR LYING. I'VE GOT THE POINT, I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN.