Amanda

I just told Ms. Reeves that I don't start her projects until the night before it's due. Maybe I shouldn't have done so; it might ruin my 100% average. It's hot in the library, but what else is there to expect at the wonderful institution of Somerville High School. JEN YU! She just reminded me that it's Tuesday. LAB DAY!

I am so antsy. Livejournal is telling me to buy THE PERFECT T-SHIRT. I mean, how can I resist? It comes in 36 different colors. Well, Leo and Andrew just told me to go to bed. The problem is, I'm not tired. How do you sleep when you're not tired? I've started really unhealthy sleeping habits. The average time I actually decide to go to sleep is 3:30 AM. I'm supposed to get a regular amount of food and sleep for my meds. HARDEEHARHAR. That's not working. My meds are really funny; they remind me of Mexican jumping beans because the actual stuff inside them isn't too dense, so when you move the tiny, feather-like capsule, you can hear the chemicals that alter your thinking bouncing around. How funny, a little pill like that can completely change who you are as a human being.

I need to pee. But I just peed about an hour ago. Andrew timed how long it took me to pee. It was 37 seconds. He said, "I told you that 37 is such an important number in my life." He has weird encounters with the number 37. I kind of wish I had a number like that. But I don't. I have nothing to read; Less Than Zero was a horrible book and the library was closed today. Primarily, only certain writers can pull of fragment and run-on sentence use. Brett Easton Ellis cannot. Secondly, who cares about yuppy West Coast boys who do coke and fuck each other in the butt? And finally, where is the moral of the story? The plot leads to nothingness. Do not tell me that was Ellis' point. Suck it.

My God, I'm still bleeding.

well, how many journals do i have to create to finally settle with one?

SunnyD and Oreo's. come home from New York, baby.