a houseful of sweaty paintballers

This weekend, Richard is at a paintball tournament in Esher. As a result, we have half his paintball team staying in our house. It was really nice to have a house full of people last night, even if some of them are a bit strange (um, yeah, well, look who's talking ;) ). And they appreciate my cakes (I got called a "genius" for making them waffles last night).

But today they've all gone off to the tournament and I woke up to an empty house which somehow seemed much emptier for having been full last night :/

another of those clues by cognitive therapy

Whenever I go through my old lj entries (particularly those from the summer of 2002), I'm struck by just how much angst there is. And a lot of it I feel would be much better made private.

But why should I censor my past to make myself seem cooler? I have had angst in my life, and I'm still here and still dealing with it (and a lot of it's dealt with). Doesn't that mean that, rather than being someone to be pitied, I rock?

Now why can't I convince myself of that?