I was genuinely hoping the sad songs on Adele's "21" wouldn't become MY sad songs. eff.
If ANYONE thinks I lobotomized that boy out of my life, they can come check out the scars on my heart. That's proof enough. I couldn't even if I wanted to.
It's Thursday. The worst is over. Six+ hours of class. A full work-week. Tears out the yang. Insomnia. Still working on fighting off illness. I canNOT wait to go home after work and sleep.
This weekend I'll be cleaning out my room, which looks like an honest-to-whatever war zone. Not kidding. Oh, and also, I'll be enjoying an extra day off and not going to school Monday.
Why do my Septembers have a history of unpleasantness? I guess last year wasn't so bad. I hope the flip of my calendars shall not signal sadness this year. At this point my heart's already so numb that I don't think I'll feel much of anything, anyway.
Holy monkeys. What is it with everyone and their mom going rock climbing? I feel a little left out but mostly I don't give a crap. I don't like rock climbing. Which means I have less interaction with my friends... but I don't want to spend time doing something I genuinely don't like. So sorry, rocks. We aren't to be acquainted for quite some time, if ever.
My plan this semester is to read. That's seriously all I have time to do. I'm spending hours, already, doing GOBS of homework after one week and I'm still behind. Not okay. blurg.
I swear, I'm becoming more like LL every day. Once again, blurg.
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