I swear I have had more bad luck in the past two days then anyone I know and I want it to end. On top of being suspended and getting to ISS I hit a fucking pole with my moms car and there’s a crack in the bumper. Yeah go me can’t you tell I’m the smart one in the family? Fuck up after fuck up, hey I’m getting pretty good at it huh?

and I swear this not being able to go out at all is killing me. Sitting here dwelling in my own misery, I find myself going to CVS to pick up a box of tissues… and that is the highlight of my day. A box of fucking tissues. But then on the car ride back I fucking hit a fucking pole. Who does that, really? I need to get out of this house I need to go somewhere and become sane again, and get rid of my bad luck.

what I need is my Derek. It’s so weird not having him here for me, not having him here to calm me down. And when he calls I want to badly to tell him every single shitty thing that is going on in my life, but I don’t. If I did he wouldn’t have fun on his cruise, he would sit there and dwell on the fact that he is not here with me. So instead I lie and I say that everything is perfect just perfect. I miss him I wish he could be just a phone call away I wish he could tell me that everything is okay. Soon though just 20 something more days.

then || now

8:51 p.m. || Sunday, Jan. 26, 2003