One more day and then the night she’s been waiting for, and I’m already feeling the pressure. I feel like I need to make sure she has a good time. Why is that hard? Because I’m a freak when it comes to being a social human being. I HATE PEOPLE. That is a fact with me. I have a handful that I care about, and the rest, unless they catch some slight of my interest, I hate. I hate them so that I physically begin to deteriorate in their presence. That’s what Saturday is all about, people. So of course I feel pressure. I feel pressure to be funny, to look good, to be worthy to show off. I feel pressure to be kind to everyone, knowing someone will come along that will annoy me to my core. It’s all just pressure. I hate to worry her, but to lie would be worse. I just hope I can do this.
Posted on Thursday, 19 April 2012
