Physical: Got very little sleep. Head is throbbing still, and my sinuses have decided to pull their lovely annual stunt with my allergies, so I pretty much feel like shit. Meh. Just realized I have not eaten in a few days. Meh. Just realized that I don't really care all that much; and I feel incredibly nauseous anyway. Now all I need is cramps on top of this. Come on, body. Bring it on. I fucking dare you.
All right, go ahead and add: "Cold as fuck" to that list of whiny complaints. I am constantly cold. One day I will own enough clothing to provide the 10+ layers that I don't doubt would be necessary to keep me warm in this class... One glorious day...
Clothing: same jeans as yesterday, fishnet shirt, way-too-big black shirt, handcuff key necklace, and brown sandals. I should have worn my boots; my feet are cold. Hair is in a braid because I left my last clippy in the car yesterday and forgot about it until I stepped out of the shower this morning. I put my watch on Greg during first period but I had to take it back. But for a little while, he had my manly black watch on his left hand and his slightly... girly (it's baby blue! BABY BLUE! cool shape, though) watch on his right. It looked odd.
Emotional: See previous entry. I think I should like to hide for a while, but I will not get to and so it's not worth hoping. There is no release from this and so I will just keep going automatically, as I have done for the past... year or so. Maybe more. I forget. I managed to communicate with Greg. Greg, I'd hug you, but then I'm afraid I'd have to kill one or both of us for it.
Mental: I just might be.
Creative: Yeah. Right.
Misc: I think I had something to put here, but I forgot what it was. Probably wasn't important.
Remembered. It is Bob Day. I have no idea what Bob Day entails. I am a little afraid. So is everyone else. (The officers - FOOLS - handed me a marker while they were making the calandar. I drew Bob on March 22nd and for the most part forgot about it. Now people are looking a little nervous. I think they are afraid of Bob. Yes. Fear my little... uh... whatever-the-hell-he-is.
take the "what's my fault" quiz.
(and then browse around mewing.net. because laura is cool.)
a mysterious fighter who mimes allies' movements
different; versatile; untouchable
|[Final Fantasy Tactics Job Class]|
Never played it.