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Why I Can’t Chicken Out
1. I texted Club Guy asking about it. I told him “Watch me chicken out because I dont know anyone.” Now my pride’s on the line.
2. I told Rosemary I would. We had an entire conversation in which she was horrified I was walking up to Frat Row alone at night, and I said things along the line of “I’ve done it before and I’m still alive.”
3. I have my makeup on. I have an outfit ready. I’m pretty much good to go.
4. I need to prove to myself that I’m not a pussy.
5. It’ll make it easier for me to do similar things in the future. What’s that thing about putting yourself out there and doing something you’re scared to do every day?
6. I want to get drunk again.
Here I go. If I dont write again, I probably got knifed walking home. No need to worry, I probably deserved it.
HOME! WAHOOWHEEEE!
After a week plus of grime and grit and waking up at DONT-WAKE-ME-THE-HECK-UP-YET in the morning, I’m home, and I have to say, it’s great to be here, even if I came home to a gigantic spider in the bathtub. More tomorrow. Bed.
