So many ideas for a comic, and yet I am unable to organize my thoughts, enabling me to at least come up with a decent concept. I'll just stare blankly at my computer screen. I should be lying down or, wow, studying. I took yesterday off because I felt like crap. By the way,
jacy_,
caseysnow or anyone else, if you want to call now you can. I feel a lot better. If you can't it's fine, and if you need the number just
e-mail me. If I felt better I'd go to the new Macy's at Fayette Mall. I don't. I'm going to the doctors today and I get a feeling they'll prescribe me some anti-anxiety medication. I won't argue this time, I've been having random fits and bouts of anger for the past two months. They can blame it on my electrolyte imbalance but I think it's just because I'm naturally bitchy as it is-- and my current medical problems aren't helping matters. Hormones. We always blame it on the hormones.
scribalreverie and I know better. Women are evil creatures I tell you.
I really want to redo this journal. It's hideous. Maybe that's a little dramatic. It's not attractive, it's boring. Messed with it, still don't like it, but now it borders on interestingly weird. I'd rather work on my comic but I'm drawing a damn blank. Why couldn't I have thought up X-Men? Why can't I be a comic genius? Stan Lee, bless me with your wisdom, you silly old bastard.
Guess who's getting their hair cut like Winona Ryder's in Alien Resurrection?
Who needs hair anyway.
Oh yea, I forgot to mention. I'm going through a hard time. So everyone kiss my ass and tell me how pretty I am. Give me a cookie, you selfish pricks. I just give, give, give, and you just take, take, take. Mwahaha.