'cause there are no reasons

I am happy to report I didn't get sick. I did, however, pick a fight with my mother when she called to say goodbye. I don't even know what it was about, but it broke apart into a jumble of nothing and everything. My eyes are almost swollen shut but I'm trying to focus on the packing. Maybe it's the trip, maybe it's the life, the dissapointment, the insignificance, the nothing and the everything. Whatever it was and is and will be, over and over again, that kind of talking never solves anything. I upset my mother and now I feel terrible about it, and I can't conjure up the excitement I had been feeling for the weekend. It's gone, and that's a bad feeling. I know this feeling will pass. But then I also know it will come back.