Happy Birthday, me!

I feel better this morning. Giles really didn’t seem to think it was wig time, but he listened to me, which always makes me feel better. Keep alert, but don’t panic.

But I wish I’d done follow-up on Drucilla. Note to self: don’t forget to follow up. If I knew she was ashes this would be a whole different deal. As it is, I got this strong impulse to go hunt her last night and it was like a really bad itch, I didn’t sleep that well. But, no dreams. No dreams is a good thing, one of my favorites...except if they’re Angel dreams. Too bad you can’t rent dreams like videos and just push play when you turn out the lights. But then, nobody would ever get up.

I’m seventeen.

I’m still alive.

In Slayer terms, maybe that’s like being thirty. Maybe Slayer years are sort of like dog years. Except, I really am seventeen. And, eww.

But I WANT to get to be thirty someday. I want that, and I want my driver’s licence, and I want Angel. Well, not exactly in that order. But I can’t seem to think about the future the way other people do, like some kids who’ve got everything planned out, graduate college at twenty-one, marry at twenty-five, have first-born at twenty-seven, retire at fifty. I’ve heard kids talking like that. Actually, it doesn’t sound that comforting, it sounds really confining. Living day by day is an exercise in keeping your cool, but at least your life belongs to YOU, instead of to everybody else’s ideas. And it teaches you spontaneity. Angel lives with that, too. He totally understands it, like nobody else.

And if I get off on an Angel track I will never get to school.

Seventeen is an important time to re-evaluate personal maturity.

I wonder if Mom would buy that one?

(Entry made after breakfast)

Wigging accomplishes nothing. But once you’ve seen instant replay of dreams it’s SO hard not to freak! I need to talk to Giles NOW, I wish I could go Drucilla now. That would solve all of my problems of the moment. Well, except that Mom seems to think that I’m not sane enough to turn a key and steer. Whatever.

It was just a plate.

Dreams aren’t prophesies.

UGH.

(Entry made just after supper)

OK...being sane Buffy now. Meeting with Giles in one hour. She’s wouldn’t move during the day anyway, and Angel’s probably just getting up, so he’s safe, I’m sure. He’s probably just getting into the shower.

That’s a nice visual.

We need a game plan. I’m on the edge of freaking. I need a plan. I should finish my homework, so I don’t have to think about it later. If she was dead I could think better. If she is alive it isn’t for long, I have an agenda. I’m sure Giles won’t mind if that’s part of the plan.

I wonder what Angel got me for my birthday?