"Jennifer... You look terribly tired. What happened to you??"

...my dad asked me yesterday, in that concerned-yet-disappointed-and-accusatory-and-reprimanding tone of voice... the one he has when he's already jumped to the conclusion that I've gotten myself into some sort of trouble, even before he lets me tell my story. He's always assumed that when I sin, I suffer physically as an inevitable consequence; and though I may try to hide either the sin or the consequences, it's obvious to the public that I've erred... much like it was for Dimsdale in Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

'Course, 99% of the time, he's wrong about me...

All I did was spend my entire Saturday helping friends move from a 3bdrm house to a 2bdrm condo, running on about 4 1/2 hrs of sleep the night before. We spent a good nine hours packing, heaving, hauling, pushing, loading, unloading, sorting, and organizing. Hell yeah, I was tired...

...even without making it to Cyberfest on Saturday night. I had been anxiously looking forward to the event during the past several weeks. I thought about the it non-stop all of last week. I hardly worked because I was thinking about it so much. Saturday night, I did something uncharacteristic of me, something I am not in the habit of doing, especially since Spring of this year. I said no to doing something I wanted to do so badly... something that would've had a negative impact on my health, though it would've also provided me with a kind of euphoric experience I've almost gotten addicted to.

I realized I could miss this event, and it wouldn't be the end of the world for me or my friends. I could fuck this one up, and it could be the end of several things... I feel very bad that I wasn't able to be there for my friends this time. But maybe not going this time, and being able to say no to things that have the potential to break me down, will allow me to be there for my friends in the future in other capacities...