I started packing.
I made a going away meal for my cousin and some of my students. It was fun.
I came back home to finish packing.
I feel twice going down the stairs. I'm hot and sticky with sweat.
My pet fish (Tjandra) almost bit my damned finger off.
I lost the book (or misplaced the book I was reading)
My boyfriend has been ranting off a list of things I've done. How much money I spend on food, how much money I spend on shopping, he bitched and moaned about me cooking for my cousin. I slammed my hand in a car door.
And don't tell (But i have momentarily misplaced my wallet).
To try and cheer me up my boyfriend said:
you're pretty when you're angry (I'm egotisitcal enough right now to say that I'm always pretty)
and now I feel like crap.
I look like crap, and my legs don't seem to be working.
But my soon to be ex neighbor but good friend told me something funny. I'd post it but I imagine you guys wouldn't wanna know. . . . assuming anyone reads this load of sh*t that describes the day into my life which has been momentarily transformed into hell.
Oh and my mother (of all people) called.
It's like someone decided today would be the day to pick on cee or something.
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A pair of powerful spectacles has sometimes sufficed to cure a person in love.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
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