Look! Complaining! How different!
I am not liking this week. I'm just not liking everything, really, right now. Anger, perceived or otherwise, makes me unhappy. Being annoyed all the time makes me unhappy. Not being able to sleep makes me unhappy.
I realize that a lot of people, when in college, go to parties and get drunk, or just drink a lot in general. Sorry to disappoint all of you who expected me to become the college student you could relate to in that manner. I don't drink. I'm not planning on it. So stop asking, stop insinuating that something is wrong with me, that I am abnormal or deficient in some way. Conceivably I could see myself eventually drinking wine or something that doesn't smell heniously like fart. But I don't want to drink beer (right now, at least), and so I'm not going to. I will also not start smoking, cigarettes, hookah, or otherwise. It just isn't something I feel that I want to do. So respect my choice, just like I respect your choice to engage in said behaviors.
It is entirely possible that I am only making up these things in my head, but, well, it does seem like I get a lot of flack for not being a "normal" college student - drinking, smoking, not sleeping/going to class/doing homework.
Also, if my talking about sex makes you uncomfortable, say something. I am not psychic, as much as I can sometimes tell how people are feeling (but that's called being empathetic). I talk about sex. It happens to be a part of my life (and of many other people's lives). So either don't wig out about it, or tell me you want me to not mention it around you. It's that easy.
I'm tired of Alison getting on my case about whether or not I go to class. Yes, I realize that I should go to class. And I do. But when I miss a class she freaks out and comes in the next morning to make sure I'm up and awake and going. Two words: fuck. off. Also, today she came back from grocery shopping or something and her first words after walking in the door were, "I can hear you guys down the hall." Really? Jeez, I had no idea you could hear the people in our apartment down the hall! It's not like I tell you that every goddamn time you have people over to get wasted.
I don't know why I'm in such a bad mood. Okay, maybe I do, but I think it's a lot of reasons, and right now I don't care to delve into the swirling miasma of my thoughts to find out what exactly is bothering me.
Paul is going to go hookah with everyone in a little bit, and, surprisingly, didn't invite me. I guess it's because I got no sleep last night and just took a nap on his bed.
I'm tired of people who smoke cigarettes. Yes, you have every right to pollute your lungs. You don't, however, have the right to pollute mine. I'm tired of walking behind people with cigarettes lit up and trailing smoke into my face. I don't like the smell, and I don't like the way it makes my lungs tighten up.
I'm done complaining. For now. I'll just go clean my room, or something.
I realize that a lot of people, when in college, go to parties and get drunk, or just drink a lot in general. Sorry to disappoint all of you who expected me to become the college student you could relate to in that manner. I don't drink. I'm not planning on it. So stop asking, stop insinuating that something is wrong with me, that I am abnormal or deficient in some way. Conceivably I could see myself eventually drinking wine or something that doesn't smell heniously like fart. But I don't want to drink beer (right now, at least), and so I'm not going to. I will also not start smoking, cigarettes, hookah, or otherwise. It just isn't something I feel that I want to do. So respect my choice, just like I respect your choice to engage in said behaviors.
It is entirely possible that I am only making up these things in my head, but, well, it does seem like I get a lot of flack for not being a "normal" college student - drinking, smoking, not sleeping/going to class/doing homework.
Also, if my talking about sex makes you uncomfortable, say something. I am not psychic, as much as I can sometimes tell how people are feeling (but that's called being empathetic). I talk about sex. It happens to be a part of my life (and of many other people's lives). So either don't wig out about it, or tell me you want me to not mention it around you. It's that easy.
I'm tired of Alison getting on my case about whether or not I go to class. Yes, I realize that I should go to class. And I do. But when I miss a class she freaks out and comes in the next morning to make sure I'm up and awake and going. Two words: fuck. off. Also, today she came back from grocery shopping or something and her first words after walking in the door were, "I can hear you guys down the hall." Really? Jeez, I had no idea you could hear the people in our apartment down the hall! It's not like I tell you that every goddamn time you have people over to get wasted.
I don't know why I'm in such a bad mood. Okay, maybe I do, but I think it's a lot of reasons, and right now I don't care to delve into the swirling miasma of my thoughts to find out what exactly is bothering me.
Paul is going to go hookah with everyone in a little bit, and, surprisingly, didn't invite me. I guess it's because I got no sleep last night and just took a nap on his bed.
I'm tired of people who smoke cigarettes. Yes, you have every right to pollute your lungs. You don't, however, have the right to pollute mine. I'm tired of walking behind people with cigarettes lit up and trailing smoke into my face. I don't like the smell, and I don't like the way it makes my lungs tighten up.
I'm done complaining. For now. I'll just go clean my room, or something.