Here it comes.
okokokokokok Here we go again. It is so easy to overlook the good things in your life, so I'm going to complain.
I haven't been able to keep down more than one days worth of food in the last week. You want to know what is wrong with me? Well everyone I tell this to tells me it is probably AIDS. It has been getting better in that the vomit sessions are becoming more dry-heave-oriented. The upside of this is that the food stays in. The downside is that it tears up everything from the stomach up. I think that my account for at least some of the blood. wait! Assuming this shit isn't terminal I sort of like it. Always the optimist. Always the masochist. I'm going to start drinking protein drinks and exercising so I don't drop deap.
The new girl at Bagel Works is a airhead and is always getting in my way. I fucking hate that. I hope she cuts her fingers off. Shannon was gone all week, which made work pretty much blow. I finally called my mom back, but didn't like talking to her. I never have anything to say. My grandmother is home it turns out, so maybe I'll go see here when I can find 5 minutes where I'm not busy with obligations or stuff.
I just erased the two sentences that previously occupied this page space. I guess I was right when I guessed I had nothing to say to other people. I've got plenty of stuff to say to myself, and the more I talk to myself, the more interesting my life becomes. I've got so much to know and so little time to organize. I refuse to turn my life into a game. My angle is that I don't need one. If you wrote a book, would you ever go back and reread it? That is what I thought. Oh, cruelty!
I haven't been able to keep down more than one days worth of food in the last week. You want to know what is wrong with me? Well everyone I tell this to tells me it is probably AIDS. It has been getting better in that the vomit sessions are becoming more dry-heave-oriented. The upside of this is that the food stays in. The downside is that it tears up everything from the stomach up. I think that my account for at least some of the blood. wait! Assuming this shit isn't terminal I sort of like it. Always the optimist. Always the masochist. I'm going to start drinking protein drinks and exercising so I don't drop deap.
The new girl at Bagel Works is a airhead and is always getting in my way. I fucking hate that. I hope she cuts her fingers off. Shannon was gone all week, which made work pretty much blow. I finally called my mom back, but didn't like talking to her. I never have anything to say. My grandmother is home it turns out, so maybe I'll go see here when I can find 5 minutes where I'm not busy with obligations or stuff.
I just erased the two sentences that previously occupied this page space. I guess I was right when I guessed I had nothing to say to other people. I've got plenty of stuff to say to myself, and the more I talk to myself, the more interesting my life becomes. I've got so much to know and so little time to organize. I refuse to turn my life into a game. My angle is that I don't need one. If you wrote a book, would you ever go back and reread it? That is what I thought. Oh, cruelty!