I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

1 week of hell can’t be made up in a night of sleep, but at least I’ve learned this, things are just as I suspected they would be. People give you respect if you deserve it, & being yourself will earn you the world. All this week, I’ve been kept awake by nerves & now I found it’s easy to be me and I’m so relaxed, I want to sleep the day away. Ah well, narcolepsy can be a bitch.

I’m not sure, but I think I’ve just become a Resident Assistant at the dorm. It was a brutal and thankless job, and I could see it being the thing that kept me awake. I’m not sure, but it does seem to fit. By the way, being an RA sucked.