Oh wait, no.
I have no right to be this tired. I'm tired all the time and it is really starting to piss me off.
Roawr. Hiss. yeah.
Our sink does not like me. It is impossible for me to wash dishes without winding up dripping wet.
Fortunately, my jacket is like a big, (now soapy) sponge.
My mom wants to throw it out. This means I will be keeping my Big Black Jacket on my person or in my car at all times, washing it in secret late at night, until I move. She will not have the jacket!
I move in 13 days. That should probably make me more antsy than I am. I just need to get around to tossing more stuff in boxes. I still feel like I didn't go through the last year of high school; that was all a made-up story, and I'm still waiting to experience my senior year, to have some of those fond memories of youth that people are apparently supposed to be able to look back on in their old age. I still want to answer "14" when people ask me how old I am. I'm still a freshman in high school. I''m still young and stupid.
Ooh, the Suicide Count is up to 3.5 now. (Suicide Count = people who say yes, I should kill myself. The .5 is someone I thought was very much against it, but really doesn't care in the least) This amuses me far more than it probably should.