I'm anxious. I have no idea why but I feel the need to pace the room. It felt like something should be happening and I'm waiting, except I don't know what I'm waiting for. Have you ever seen a cat pacing in its cage? If you do then you know what I mean. Something is wrong and I'm missing the clues.

The rationale was that it would calm me down. A couple of shots. In reality, on an empty stomach and with the lack of sleep it only made me drunk. My dad called me when I was sleeping on the couch. I hung up and he called again. I must have slurred coz he let me go back to sleep, typically he would compliment on me sleeping early, but continued talking anyways. I don't mind that as long as he doesn't mind me not paying attention. It could have been worse. He could have called when I'm in the process of punching a hole in the wall, and he'd ask if I were happy. I sometimes wonder if he knew that I am incapable of communicating my emotions. If he knew I think he worries too much and I worry too much about him worrying.