Feeling: am I allowed to feel anything right now? I didn't know.
Listening to: a bad version of Defying Gravity
Reading/Watching: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

I hate my throat and I hate my acid reflux and I hate my stress and I hate my recurring, everchanging allergies and I hate my constant going going going in pursuit of keeping this job that I don't have a choice but to want because otherwise there's nowhere to go but down, and I hate the creeping worry that if I'd passed on this and kept waitressing I might be less worn to the bone right about now.

And I am a singer, people. Singing is how I relieve my tension and vent my frustration and comfort myself. It's my audio-yoda. I WANT MY FUCKING VOICE BACK, GODDAMMIT.

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