So, I guess this week has been a little tough on me; I don't really think much has happened that I can pin-point and say has been absolutely horrific, but I don't know...maybe I'm finally cracking up.
It just sucks that all I wanted to really do with my life was sit criss-cross apple sauce, playing piano versions of sad old punk songs, occasionally eating a blueberry muffin or drinking some cherryade. Never wanted to bother anyone, never wanted to get into other peeps' business, ya feel?
Life had other plans for me, I see, because I've ended up an over-worked, anti-social mishmash of black clothing, fueled by hate and angry songs instead.
Yay(!)
On another bum note, I accidentally broke my favourite mug: it was a present from one of my old friends, and I use it for everything. So, yeah. I'm sad and stuff. You won't ever see this, but sorry, Ash, I broke it. Hopefully the guilt will kill me before you do.
Finally, I tried to talk to a "friend" from college about some stuff I've been trying to work through when I was really down a couple of days ago, but she couldn't even give me the time of day. Like ouch. You think you could take a bullet for someone and then they turn 10 on you. Fine, be that way.
Also, my sister took the last Cornetto. Sigh.
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