just in case

Dan is the only one that knows about this. But he may have forgotten, because it's really not that important.

I just remember that before I left for Ghana, I called Dan up and told him that if I die in an airplane crash or ended up murdered in Ghana that there was a box in the basement of my ex-boyfriends rented house on 8 1st Street in Athens. A typical office box with a piece of office paper taped on top in green marker "JUST IN CASE." I guess in some symbolic way anything I ever really cared about, object wise, was in that box. Its contents were to be given to whoever the hell wanted them. The rest to be donated or thrown away. I just wanted my friends to have a fair shot of things of mine, if they wanted it. But I didn't crash or get murdered so I kept all that fucking stuff.

Then I started writing JUST IN CASE journal entries in my lady diary.

Then I realized that I think too much about the future. There is too much doom and gloom to be writing JUST IN CASE entries.

Then it got me really scared about everything. About being here in California. About relationships in general. About friendships. I thought about calling Dan or Jon or Adam to try and calm me the fuck down. But it really wasn't that important.

But seriously and in no disrespect to the big BG, but JUST IN CASE, somehow, search the contents on my shit for my Facebook password and deactivate my account. JUST IN CASE. I do not want my facebook wall to become a shrine. I get too sad thinking about it. I do not want others to find therapy that way.

I'm becoming a fucking clown. That should say something about how I want to live life. So go fucking laugh and never ever write on my facebook wall again.

I'm really goddamn anxious all.the.time.now. And I own too many things.

-slm