you're the virgin suicides. you're sad but pretty, and very, very dreamy.
I slept for 12 hours. I still feel like I've been run over by a truck.
I realised, very poignantly, that I haven't stepped out of my house since last Monday. Not even one foot out of the front door. And the Internet has been my only connection with the outside world.
Doesn't really bother me though. Yes, I am dying of boredom half the time and yes, I am worried about school (surprise, surprise) and can't wait to get back and start classes, but on the other hand, I've gone back to the start, the very essence of my existence, these past few days.
And where is that? Slacking!
Well, duh. Were you expecting something deep and profound? Sorry to disappoint, but nobody, and I mean no-fucking-body, can be deep and profound when they have a migraine the size of the USA lodged in their head.
I really did sleep for 12 hours. Or more. Went to bed at 12-something a.m. Woke up, checked my watch for the time as I don't have a clock in my room, and the numbers 12:44 stared back at me.
I must've been really tired yesterday.
You know what? I need new crushes. Seriously. I've been besotted with dear Mr. Nerd for way too long now and it's getting really, really stale. In fact, it's rotted beyond hope. I'm not interested in a serious relationship, nor am I interested in even dating. But having crushes is so fun. It's not childish, like many people would think, until you begin to take it seriously, but who ever told you to take crushes seriously?
These are the light years of my life, and I should bloody well live it up. So Wednesday back to school, I'd be keeping my eyes peeled for cute guys. Oh, yes, you bet.
That is, if I can find any in my beloved JJC.
Anyway, iced coffee rocks. Long live.