Lia being woeful

We're about to check out of the hotel and move into the apartment. Well, "move" after a fashion, really, because the apartment is basically un-liveable. The heat is negligible, and the floor is fully carpeted. And there are no lights. Ok, there are some lights, but not enough to make it feel like home. It's below zero outside (-3, I think, celsius). But I'm stuck inside the hotel room nursing a sort-of sprained ankle, so I wouldn't really know.

So I'm scared. I'm scared because ever since my dad left (I'm a little hung up on my dad's absence, I'm such a little girl), I've been screwing up one thing after another. Ok, so I screwed up even when my dad was here, but at least his presence made me feel a little less stupid. First I dropped my passport on the plane and didn't notice (my dad did).
Then I defaced my passport picture (I now look like a cannibal-serial-killer) when I inserted my plane ticket in my passport with the red carbon-paper side facing my picture, etc.
Then I lost one of the keys to my luggage and had to call someone from hotel maintenance to snip the padlock to padlock-death.
Then I bought stupid shoes.
Then I bought stupid shoes again.
Then I forgot the PIN of my ATM (virtually my only source of moolah).
Then I sprained my ankle (sort of) with my stupidstupid shoes.

I can only hope I didn't screw up paying for my tuition, because then that would be some half a million Php down the Canadian drain. Hooray for red tape. Now we have to go back downtown tomorrow to retrieve my PIN and have it changed. My mother is being the self-righteous, suppressed-housewife version of herself right now, and who can blame her? I'm an idiot.

And it's cold outside.
And my ankle hurts. I can't walk, and I hate my shoes.

And I scarred Raoul. I did. He is scarred. (I'm so sorry, Raoul.)

I miss my Poppa.

:(

Ok. Will stop. I just need deep breaths and a new brain.