blah blah blah and more blah
I'm so fried.
I'm so screwed.
I'm so dead.
Biology is killing me. I can't recall ANYTHING. BLOODY NOTHING. It's taking me forever. I just can't fathom or take or just DO it. I'm way dead. it doesn't help that the AP test is in two weeks.
Prom? NO DRESS. I don't know what's happening. Dinner? What?? EVERYTHING?!?!
My parents are on me to get a new job. All I want to do is survive the rest of junior year. And then I can worry about money. My dad asked me today...or told me today that I could be a pharmacist. I was like..."why?" "because you've got the smarts, it's a job with regular hours, it pays 100,000 dollars a year, and plus. You've got family history of pharmacists."
me, "But I don't think I want to be a pharmacist. I don't think it'd be very exciting. I want to explore." (((I mean, NO. I don't. I want something exciting. I want to cook and write and explore. "Explore" was the first thing out of my mouth, followed by "art." I want art, food, new places new people, history.)))
dad, "What's more exciting?"
me, "Art. Music. Cooking. History."
dad, "But where's the job? What kind of job?"
me, "I want to have a restaurant. I want to explore. I want to be a archaeologist or a paleontologist. I want to write."
argh.
So i get hungry, and I eat. Because you're hungry and you're body is saying 'you need to eat'. So i do. But then i get a horrible stomache ache. BUT I'M STILL HUNGRY. I don't bugger get it. hot damn.
And now i'm going to bugger off. I'll be back later. So i can vent some more. Cuz that's all this twisted journal is, a vent house. god damn it.
I'm so screwed.
I'm so dead.
Biology is killing me. I can't recall ANYTHING. BLOODY NOTHING. It's taking me forever. I just can't fathom or take or just DO it. I'm way dead. it doesn't help that the AP test is in two weeks.
Prom? NO DRESS. I don't know what's happening. Dinner? What?? EVERYTHING?!?!
My parents are on me to get a new job. All I want to do is survive the rest of junior year. And then I can worry about money. My dad asked me today...or told me today that I could be a pharmacist. I was like..."why?" "because you've got the smarts, it's a job with regular hours, it pays 100,000 dollars a year, and plus. You've got family history of pharmacists."
me, "But I don't think I want to be a pharmacist. I don't think it'd be very exciting. I want to explore." (((I mean, NO. I don't. I want something exciting. I want to cook and write and explore. "Explore" was the first thing out of my mouth, followed by "art." I want art, food, new places new people, history.)))
dad, "What's more exciting?"
me, "Art. Music. Cooking. History."
dad, "But where's the job? What kind of job?"
me, "I want to have a restaurant. I want to explore. I want to be a archaeologist or a paleontologist. I want to write."
argh.
So i get hungry, and I eat. Because you're hungry and you're body is saying 'you need to eat'. So i do. But then i get a horrible stomache ache. BUT I'M STILL HUNGRY. I don't bugger get it. hot damn.
And now i'm going to bugger off. I'll be back later. So i can vent some more. Cuz that's all this twisted journal is, a vent house. god damn it.