March 18, 2002 :: 2:09 p.m.
nothing to do, so sad
So... shit. I'm bored. Boredom is tempting me to eat, though I'm not really hungry. I considered calling Joe, but I'm not sure I feel like going out tonight. I could clean my room, but it's cold in here, and for some reason I'm letting that prevent me from cleaning. Yeah. I could just put on another sweater or turn up the heat, but instead I have to get all weird, lemon-logic on myself. Blast.
The house is still empty. I'm not sure what's going on. I expected my parents to be back by now. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but at least if they were here I could get the rest of my taxes done. My mom has the forms and the instructions stowed away somewhere that I don't know about.
Dear Telemarketers,
You need to stop calling my house. My mother is not home, but even if she were I would tell you otherwise because she wouldn't want to talk to you. I know it's your job and everything, but no one wants to talk to you. No one wants what you're selling. Perhaps if I told you that my mother is dead, and that your mentioning her name dredges up horrible memories and provokes bouts of suicidal thoughts and excessive crying - would you stop calling then?
(pseudo)suicidally yours,
Amanda
I want to go to a movie or something, but Amanda isn't home and there isn't much playing that Joe would want to see. Grrar. Time for a peanut butter sandwich. Mmm, beloved peanut butter. You're such a wonderful friend to me.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005