I like to have subjects.
I always open this up to write something, and then I can't think of what I want to say. I'm hungry. I haven't eaten too much today, because I haven't really been hungry, and now that I'm hungry, I'm realizing that all I've eaten is a donut and half of a cookie. It's a teeny bit upsetting how unhealthy that sounds. I would thoroughly enjoy Pita Pit right now. Mmm. I also wish I could french braid. I know it's annoying when people are like, "I wish I could do this," because you always just want to say, "Well then why don't you learn how?!" But I've tried! And I honestly think that whatever circuit in my brain that tells my hands what to do and when, cannot perceive the art of french braiding. I'll keep trying through my disappointment, but I think I may be stuck in a rut. Also, I bought a hand-made dress the other day in St. Augustine and it is so freaking cute. And it looks so simple to make! I would totally make my own dresses, but I don't have the patience to sew and I don't have the money for a sewing machine. Maybe I could find a used one for cheap? Anyone want to sell me a sewing machine? I think I'm going to shave my legs. Lmao, I almost wrote, "sew my legs," instead of shave. How frightening. I started reading Atlas Shrugged, and already I'm afraid of how sad it's going to make me. I feel like almost every character I've met so far has at one point been described as "expressionless" or "apathetic" or "emotionless"; not one character is happy. I'm beginning to encounter reality in many different forms, and it's a little bit scary and a little bit sad, and it's a little bit ironic that this is the book I choose to read at this particular realization in my life. I'm still hungry!