Dec 23, 2008 13:45
Depressed. Sex stuff. Stupid Danny.
We have secret santa at work today. I have to get something for one of the girls. I may just get an American Express gift card. Impersonal, but she'd appreciate it because she could use it for anything. Blah. And I'm going to the gym with John. And I just want to curl up into a ball and die.
But somehow I made an A in Writers' House.
exercise,
danny,
love,
sex,
grades,
work