Recently
Well here's what I've been up to:
Office Depot: My hate for my job grows exponentially with every hour that I work there. I don't like anything about it: the customers, the managers, the policies, or the items we sell. I find no matter how happy I start my day, I always end stiff and bitter. It sucks the fun out of my life.
Lane Bryant: So far I have spent more than I've made. But I really needed current clothes to wear to work there. It's fun. I like what I've done there so far.
LSATs: Not much to say really. I'm learning and studying and that sort of thing. I guess I'll soon see if it's paying off or not.
I make weekly trips home to Melbourne because I'm lonely. It's getting to a point where I'm not so embarrassed to admit it. Like my weight, I guess it's just a part of life. I talk to Keriane daily to keep company during the week and on weekends I go home. I do my laundry and sleep and lay out by the pool while Mom works. At night, Mom and I go see movies and have dinner out. "We like to escape, don't we?" she said today after picking me from home before shopping and a matinee of "Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith". It's true,we do but who doesn't? Tomorrow we're having a barbeque. Barbequed Chicken, veggie tray, potato salad, baked beans and lemon cake. Oh and Beringer Chardannay 2003.
I turn 21 in 3 months and I'm excited. But a little sad. I have big plans, but I'm afraid that nobody will come up/down for it. I miss my gang. I want to get together again and I want my birthday to be the perfect reason for everyone to leave Atlanta, Melbourne, Gainesville, and Dallas to invade the Orlando nightlife. But I doubt it'll happen. I want to go to Pleasure Island and barhop. Get a cheap-ish hotel room have an early celebratory dinner and then go out. But it's Labor Day weekend. And everyone's so far away. I guess I can dream.
Speaking of dreams, I had one about Peter. It was really long; in it were amusement parks, ATVs on the beach and (shockingly) competion for his attention. I woke up feeling like double shit. Shit #1 was for treating him so badly. Shit #2 was for being alone. Another estranged acquaintance was in the dream, too. Make that triple shit. I don't know where zigged when I should have zagged along my path of life, but I've definitely took every wrong turn imagineable. With my adept decision-making, it's a wonder I'm not broke, barefoot and pregnant. Well--- broke and barefoot I am--- pregnant, well that's a different story.
I would be an awful mother. I shhh-ed kids on roller coasters. It makes me wonder why I have the ability to procreate, and people who want to so badly cannot. Life is ironic.
To read this, someone might think that I'm drunk. I'm not. And haven't been since Yellow Rose. Vodka's a bitch. I really hate writting down my thoughts. Enough of this before I feel like quadruple shit.
Office Depot: My hate for my job grows exponentially with every hour that I work there. I don't like anything about it: the customers, the managers, the policies, or the items we sell. I find no matter how happy I start my day, I always end stiff and bitter. It sucks the fun out of my life.
Lane Bryant: So far I have spent more than I've made. But I really needed current clothes to wear to work there. It's fun. I like what I've done there so far.
LSATs: Not much to say really. I'm learning and studying and that sort of thing. I guess I'll soon see if it's paying off or not.
I make weekly trips home to Melbourne because I'm lonely. It's getting to a point where I'm not so embarrassed to admit it. Like my weight, I guess it's just a part of life. I talk to Keriane daily to keep company during the week and on weekends I go home. I do my laundry and sleep and lay out by the pool while Mom works. At night, Mom and I go see movies and have dinner out. "We like to escape, don't we?" she said today after picking me from home before shopping and a matinee of "Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith". It's true,we do but who doesn't? Tomorrow we're having a barbeque. Barbequed Chicken, veggie tray, potato salad, baked beans and lemon cake. Oh and Beringer Chardannay 2003.
I turn 21 in 3 months and I'm excited. But a little sad. I have big plans, but I'm afraid that nobody will come up/down for it. I miss my gang. I want to get together again and I want my birthday to be the perfect reason for everyone to leave Atlanta, Melbourne, Gainesville, and Dallas to invade the Orlando nightlife. But I doubt it'll happen. I want to go to Pleasure Island and barhop. Get a cheap-ish hotel room have an early celebratory dinner and then go out. But it's Labor Day weekend. And everyone's so far away. I guess I can dream.
Speaking of dreams, I had one about Peter. It was really long; in it were amusement parks, ATVs on the beach and (shockingly) competion for his attention. I woke up feeling like double shit. Shit #1 was for treating him so badly. Shit #2 was for being alone. Another estranged acquaintance was in the dream, too. Make that triple shit. I don't know where zigged when I should have zagged along my path of life, but I've definitely took every wrong turn imagineable. With my adept decision-making, it's a wonder I'm not broke, barefoot and pregnant. Well--- broke and barefoot I am--- pregnant, well that's a different story.
I would be an awful mother. I shhh-ed kids on roller coasters. It makes me wonder why I have the ability to procreate, and people who want to so badly cannot. Life is ironic.
To read this, someone might think that I'm drunk. I'm not. And haven't been since Yellow Rose. Vodka's a bitch. I really hate writting down my thoughts. Enough of this before I feel like quadruple shit.