We went to the wings deal at Mortys. Good wings. Except the hot buttery ones. Don't get those, they're gross and sour and bright orange, exemplifying all the worst characteristics of butter chicken. I had two Long Island iced teas. The first one was practically virgin. The second one was weirdly strong. Mon giggled walking home. Her drinks were blue like a photoshopped lagoon in a Carribbean brochure.

Then I got home. Opened up a coco water breezer. Finished the 4-pack. Finished season 1 of Scandal. Oh, my god. People looking at each other! People looking at other people! People yelling at people! But especially people looking at each other! Oh, god, the hands and the arms and the shoulders and the eyes.

The thing I was going to write about - yeah.

Positive thinking. When "I can get through this" or "there is a light at the end of the tunnel" or "I am beautiful and brilliant and totally competent" seem unfounded.

But that "I've been through worse" feels like the truth. Elevating one's past to personal canon.

What does it mean, that I find that the greatest source of strength is my own past? That maybe, the constant narration is good for something? That I believe my past self more than my present, or anything else in the present? Why would I trust the past more than the present?

It is, however, totally, completely, 100% true. Grade 12 was a bad, bad time. So was 1st year. 2nd year was kind of shitty too. Now is a far better time than before. I have sources of support both closer and more diversified than before.

I did it once, and I can do it again, for long as I need to.

Gotta get up early tomorrow to email and/or long-distance call the prof. I know it doesn't REALLY matter for UW admissions, but I'd prefer to deal with the administrivia now rather than later.

Man I KNEW I should have asked my old boss instead of this prof.