Strawberry was trying to wheedle the guys in her new group to take her out for coffee. Her voice carried all the way from upstairs. You could hear it. And I suppose the other girls in the group shot her down in her request, because I didn't see her at the caf�. Blah. Which reminded me of all the times that we trooped down to the caf� at her request only to have her arrive fashionably late with her boyfriend in toll, and with us finishing our coffees no less. I feel avenged.

So see, bad girl. Being so mean spirited. Bad.

I'm grumpy and in pain all the time, which makes me extremely grouchy, and old before my time. The crotchety granny that waves her cane at the kids that are playing hopscotch outside her house. I sleep 14 hours a day and am not extremely alert for the remaining 10 hours. My throat hurts incessantly and I am trying really hard to finish all my work. Sigh. It isn't an excuse I know.

And besides I know that I am jealous that someone else has a good time. Has a social life. Has companionship. After my fallout with Paladin (he calls me by my last name now), I have essentially turned hermit crab-like. I am not too popular or even pleasant looking. Haggard, dazed, and pale. A wraith wandering the hallways. Resting only in my room, the dining hall and the TV room. I seldom smile, or greet people, because frankly, my spirits are really low, I'm tired and just not up to it. And making conversation takes more out of me than I care to admit in public.

My illness has fought back to regain the upper hand.

The bright spot is that Jingle is coming down to see me. Although I must admit being apprehensive about the boyfriend that she is bringing along. Hee. You never know when you might insult the poor fellow unwittingly and make things difficult for Jingle.

But yes, I know I am jealous because Strawberry has companionship. Yes, I know I should feel relieved, and I am, that she has someone else to occupy her. But I do feel lonely, even if it is a self-inflicted loneliness due to exhaustion. So envy is really pretty unavoidable.

Sometimes I wonder what aim is achieved for me to beat myself on the head for being so mean-spirited in the dark of my soul? After all, it is the deepest, most hidden anguish and anger that sprouts up in everyone, except maybe in saints and enlightened figures. I am certainly not perfect so I shouldn�t be so hard on myself.

And why bother to be so detailed in my soul searching? Does it make a difference? Does it relieve my hurt, my envy? And besides, it doesn't disturb other people. I certainly don�t stomp up to someone and tell her that they are annoying or bitch about her (other than in my journal) to someone else. It doesn't hurt. Of course if such anger etc. appears in the undertone of an unrelated conversation with said person, we have issues. But since I am a hermit, I think it will not.

And am I deluding myself? Does feeling guilty make an iota of difference? Do I really attempt to change, or just delude myself to feel better? To feel superior and to say, "Hey at least I am making an effort to consciously improve". Bah.

Do you know what this disguises? Low self-esteem. Damnit.

On a tangent, this reminds me of the biography on The Astors I just saw on cable. They were the richest family in America for 200 years. But the most appropriate person I want to talk about is Caroline Astor, who single-handedly created New York high society in the 1800s. She excluded people and created the exclusive clique that is the foundation for today's New York high society.

Talk about low self-esteem. After all, she only felt great about herself by making her ball invitations, coveted items. Achieving that by excluding people and hence feeling superior because she did. And all because her husband wandered off to warmer and prettier pastures. Hah. The manifestations of such meanness. Sounds familiar?