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Dear Sarah (Diary Entry No. 8)

Dear Sarah, 

Midterms are a bitch! 

I should be studying but, oh hell, I can’t help it. I am in such a good mood nothing can bring me down.  Even the unfairness of Social Psychology being taught by a sociologist isn’t pissing me off.

Professor Frazier is a silly, little man.  Doesn’t he know none of us care about his disdain for psychology? Well we don’t, but he has a captive audience, so we’ll listen to him complain for an hour if it means a passing grade. Even though that frog lectures us endlessly on his viewpoints that are contrary to the material in our book,  he says either question could be on the test.   

If he only knew how shallow and incomplete both are in the face of the truth. Typical for his species, though. His normal’s only comparative to humans and what they know about their neurotypical behaviors (I guess I do pay attention sometimes). 

But today, nope, I don’t care! Everything is roses at the moment.  

I must admit, even my currently pleasant outlook has me almost feeling bad for Tim when I see his “friends” tease him, but he just looks so smitten.  I know it may not have been voluntary at first, but I’ve convinced myself he’s happier licking Sammy’s boots.  Who am I to judge, right?  Nope, not caring in the slightest.  Better her boots than mine.

Sammy? I’m particularly happy with her as well.  If I hadn’t been so worried about her sudden interest in Brendan, I’d probably just gone on as vanilla as ever. Not now.

After that kiss with Brendan, everything feels different, more intimate. Our kisses before were pallid in comparison. Ever since, I’ve had this unyielding burning feeling things are going to get much more interesting.  

I’ve been so chary in the way I have treated my relationship with him, until now.  Partly, I was afraid he wouldn’t understand and maybe I’d lose him.  I was even more afraid I’d lose control and something terrible would happen. 

Well, since he didn’t knuckle under to Sammy I am starting to think my sweet Brendan can handle his own.  That’s an idea that gets my blood boiling – in a good way.

At least today, I’m not overly concerned about the situation with Sammy either.  Maybe I just made up a bunch of stuff and caused a lot of worry for nothing.  Sammy isn’t evil.  She’s naughty and sexy and oh, so dangerous.  But not evil.  

I’m going to let things play out as they might and ride this hurricane. Who knows where it will drop me.  It’s amazing just how fun that sounds!

Fool hardy?  Maybe.  At this point, I don’t care. I’m just so exhausted and tired of worrying.  I just can’t do it anymore. Today, I don’t think anything could go wrong and, even if it did, I think I would manage.

Damn.  I hope this feeling lasts forever.

Always thoughtful in your embrace, 

Shelly

Dear Sarah,  Midterms are a bitch!  I should be studying but, oh hell, I can't help it. I am in such a good mood nothing can bring me down.  Even the unfairness of Social Psychology being taught by a sociologist isn't pissing me off. Professor Frazier is a silly, little man.  Doesn’t he know none of us care about his disdain for psychology? Well we don’t, but he has a captive audience, so we’ll listen to him complain for an hour if it means a passing grade. Even though that frog lectures us endlessly on his viewpoints that are contrary…

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