The Old Mind is a Slippin'

So I'm not old. But my mind is just plain exhausted (I need to learn to spell that word, and experience [which is just spelled right on my own for the first time, ever]). I'm having bizarre nightmares. Like my unborn child (in the dream) burned my hair off my head and I had to get the rest of it cut off. For those of you who don't know I'm going through a balding period. I was wearing my bangs straight down, I was deciding if I needed a haircut the other day and was messing with my bangs, I can't wear them straight down any longer because I have two major holes in my hairline. Balding periods suck, and apparently I'm having anxiety of this one.

Anyhow, my anxious mind thought of two very clever things in the course of the day for me to write to you about. I have since forgotten. I just remember thinking that you would have enjoyed them.

Also, I have a brain tumor, self-diagnosed. I keep having strange tingling on my scalp and shoulder. Same two places, so I know it must be corresponding places in my brain. I thought about plotting  my symptoms into WebMD but come on, I wanted to be a doctor at one point, I know what I'm talking about: Something clever.

A Drink or A Cry But I Can't Cry Over a Drink

I was super excited about taking that test. And after 10 months sans tests I knew I'd be rusty but I know tests. I had it, not in the bag, but I had it. So I got my results today, I missed passing by 12.6 points. Now I'm sitting here typing this drinking hot chocolate, I might cry. Not because I didn't pass, that happens sometimes but because right now not passing hurts too deep. I can't let it go, I need to get away and I can't.

I could have a drink, but drinking alone defeats the purpose in this case and I have to be at work at 7, as does my geographically nearest friend, all the others are too far away. I know that drinking is not the answer and let me assure you that I actually drink on a fairly rare basis these days. But drinking is a very social activity for me, not as in I need to drink to be social, but more drinking occurs and good times are had sometime between a beer and falling asleep on the floor of some friends parents' house (because at 23 most of us cannot find lucrative enough jobs to move out of our parents homes).

The upside is I have an interview for what seems to be a potentially awesome but is also part time and in Baltimore. If another person points out how far the drive is, I will gather up all the hair that is dropping out of my head and sprinkle it in their bed. My hair is fine, it's a disgusting feeling, and I'm potentially balding again.

Maybe a panic attack is a good way to go?

Or I should buy a sports car... I'd prefer a pony but ponies don't speak directly of mid-life crisises.

Someone figure my life out for me and let me know when you do, I'll be eternally greatful.