threat level: orange

I'm really in a terrible mood for writing but I feel I need to write something to keep myself going. I promised myself daily entries so here I am.
I was pretty anxious all day today. I tried hard to suppress it and use mind over matter to make it go away. It was the first meeting of my book club and I was very annoyed by my procrastinating ways. We read "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and I guess I use the term read or we read somewhat loosely. I didn't finish the book. Luckily I wasn't alone! Oh I know why go to a book club if you're not gonna read the book? It was just difficult getting into it. The beginning was dryer than the deserts of the middle east where the book took place. I've been picking up momentum in the last week or so but I hadn't made a real dent in the book. Last night I went at it like a mad woman. I felt like I did in high school, waiting until the last day to read the 400 page book which was assigned at the beginning of the term. In those days I would skim through the book looking for points that stuck out enough to formulate the paper I was sure to have left until the 11th hour. How the hell did I get out of school with a diploma? I was kind of thinking about that last night as I tried desperately to understand what I was reading. I mean really I used to do this ALL the time. I remember having to write a hefty sized essay on a book of my choosing my senior year. I chose Catch 22. I picked it up from the library and set it somewhere in my room where it remained the rest of the semester until the day of the final. Seriously it was an open book final where we were to construct our essay on the book. I wish I could find that essay because I remember having received an A- on it. What the hell? I opened the book to random sections and read a paragraph or two then moved onto a different part of the book and repeated the same thing over and over meanwhile constructing some essay. Was I some literary genius? Or was my teacher just sick of seeing our faces in her class? I haven't the slimmest idea what Catch 22 was actually about. Shame on me seriously.
So I spent hours last night cramming over this book. I reached part 2 and was suddenly more lost than ever. I thought I had gotten a good idea of what had been going on but suddenly we were reading about someones arrival in Tehran 10 years earlier. I wasn't sure if I had missed something, if I was reading a series of short stories, if my kindle had taken a crap on itself and I missed an entire chapter. I was so frustrated and ready to say screw it I quit. I went to bed sometime after 1 and woke up around 8 and went back to reading. I was finding the book more interesting in that it discussed the revolution that took place in Iran during the 1980's and the similarities in what we have been watching take place in the middle east over the last few weeks but it really wasn't enough to make me not want to yank my hair out. By noon I had a renewed desire to quit. Mike and I went to lunch where I about lost my shit. That anxiety I was feeling was seriously coming to a head. Lunch sucked. We found ourselves at Ron's Island grill, where Mike was adamant I'd gone to before. His hard headed insistence of this "fact" was really pushing me over the edge. We had about an hour before I had to meet the girls and I just kept saying I don't want to go I don't want to go!! There are some days when I just don't want to leave the house. I know I'm not good company on those days and I don't want to be around anyone at all. Today was one of those. Mike encouraged me to go and so I did. It didn't turn out as bad as I thought but it became a hard learned lesson on why one must stay on their meds. Crazy people aren't fun to be around and unfortunately I can't run away from myself.