When The Smoke Clears

I feel like I'm chasing my tail. Actually, lets make that several days that I've been chasing my tail. I'm doing research on the correlation between febrile seizures and adult epilepsy. I'm stuck, though, in the big grey area that belongs to the period of my life between the ages of 6 and 9. I usually love Google, but I'm feeling no love today. I have no idea where to look, now, for any kind of medical research on fever-related seizures after the age of 5. You see, there's this nice little mold created by studies around the world that I don't fit into. I've never been concerned with fitting into a mold. I think molds are a big con, personally. God never meant for the entire human race to follow in a straight line, never to stray from the accepted. But molds exist, and this one is biting me in the ass! I've always enjoyed being an independent person. I like expressing myself and my moods through colorful and fun shoes. I have outgrown my little sister complex and have decided I could give a rat's ass what anyone thinks as long as I'm happy (that's in theory, of course...doesn't always work that way). But this time I wish I fit into that little mold.

Ok...that's my bitterness for the day. Sorry!