Woke up crazy early this morning, but it was all worth it. Why? Because I got the MOMENTS posters from Kate! She wanted to get rid of the colorful evidence after taking advantage of her work’s printers, so I picked them up at her office before the morning rush. They look amazing! And Kate printed 250 of them! Honestly, she just saved me so much time and money. I hope Kate knows how much I appreciate her help. I think I told her about 25 times. Ugh. I love that girl so much!

Now that I have the posters, the next step is going to be putting them up around the city. That requires a staple gun. I figured that Dad would have had one at the house, so I took the car out and went up to Casa Z right after meeting Kate. Naturally, it wasn’t there. Phillip has it at his place downtown. Oy. Such a waste of time.

Two McDonald’s hash browns later, I drove back to the city. All I wanted this morning was a goddamn Creme Egg McFlurry. Why are McDonald’s ice cream machines always fucking broken? The audacity! I’m actually convinced it’s a chain-wide conspiracy. I will not stand for any more of this lactose intolerance bullshit. It’s just plain rude!

After my wild goose chase to get the stupid staple gun from Phillip, I went back to the Witch Cave. I dropped off my stuff, packed a bag for the gym, and blazed before heading out. Of course, once I arrived at the gym, I quickly realized that I had forgotten to pack a pair of shorts. So, I trekked back to my apartment, purchasing and eating a variety of munchies along the way, got my shorts, and returned to the gym. I still managed to do my full workout, which was good, and then walked home to the Witch Cave. Today was such a waste of time. Seriously.

I got high again as soon as I walked through my front door. After that, I was totally out of commission. A vegetable, except less healthy. A gummy worm, maybe. Tonight was supposed to have been a very productive evening, and I fucked it all up. It even got to the point where I was having a series of mini anxiety attacks about all of the crap that I’m not doing. I need to get back on track. This weed phase is completely throwing me off. Next week, I have that Toronto Fashion Week gig as well as all of the last-minute MOMENTS prep. Everything is going to be happening in such a condensed and hectic period. I won’t have time for fuck ups. Get it together, girl!

A while ago, I had made plans with Connor to go the movies tonight. We went to see Zootopia. The film itself was fantastic. I loved it. But, for whatever reason, I still felt a little claustrophobic in the movie theater. I tried to internalize as much of that anxiety as I could, though. I was also stoned, so that might have been a part of it. Overall, it was still good for me to get out of my apartment and have some social time with a friend. Connor now lives about 50-feet away from my place, so we walked home together after the movie, and that was that.

Today was a rough day for my anxiety. Oddly enough, I finally received a call back from Natasha’s therapy lady after I left her a voicemail last week. Moira Nightingale. I still can’t get over that name. Moira fuckin’ Nightingale. It’s so ridiculous. I’ve also decided to use her full name every time I refer to her. One word: MoiraNightingale.

Anyway, Moira Nightingale and I talked over the phone and had a pretty good chat. The short conversation was fairly helpful, but kind of weird at the same time. When I explained my current situation, Moira said something along the lines of, “Well, it sounds like you just need to get yourself a really good self-help book.”

Huh? No, thanks. The last thing I want right now is to spend more quiet time in my head. I interrupted her soon after she began listing off a variety of titles.

“That sounds nice,” I said. “But, I actually have a lot of things I really just want to talk about and get off my chest.”

Moira Nightingale agreed, and we scheduled my session for the week after next. I’m really looking forward to it. I think having an open discussion with a trained professional will be great for me. This is going to be my first time seeing a therapist, too. Should be interesting.

For the most part, I think my anxiety continues to stem from my situation with Logan. Eventually, I’ll have to message him. But, I just wonder, when will that have to happen? How long is Logan planning on avoiding me? It’s all so pathetic. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Logan since the day I met him. Now, it’s been reduced to this. I mean nothing to him. Logan doesn’t even acknowledge my existence anymore. I just wish he knew how much I still love him.

Goodnight xo