I suppose it feels good to be a gangster

Caffeine is pulsing through me. I feel jittery.

The thoughts in my head chase one another around until I am completely confused. I couldn’t tell Mr. Todd apart from my neighbor at this point.

I get too easily upset, but to be fair my body and I aren’t getting along at the moment. And when you don’t get along with your body…bad things happen.

I probably need to be feeding it on a regular basis...and let it sleep more…. possibly take it on a few more walks, and perhaps stop letting it eat zebra cakes. Oh dear body, just wait till summer…maybe I will take care of you then.

My mind is a whole different matter. It treats me like this just to get a laugh out of people. It would do that, you know. It’s very spiteful.

EMCC, I am nearly through with you

Two years have you tortured me. Two years have you made my school life so very unpleasant. But I have learned. I have learned much.

I have learned that getting to know your teacher just well enough to kiss up in the perfect way is invaluable.

I have learned that making nothing sound intelligent is a skill that takes time to be mastered.

I have learned that giving your number to scary boys to make them go away is a bad decision, which results in having to change ones phone number.

I have learned that some boys are stupid to the point of needing to be shot…in the knee of course, we’ll not go so far as murder.yet.

I have learned things that have grossed me out and made me question humanity.

I have learned that I know more than my Western Civ. Teacher…oh Mr. C. to be rid of you will be a shining day open my history. I have learned that you, Mr. C., are a douche bag…and not the good kind.

I have learned that I love psychology and sociology….and that’s why I’m going into something business related.

Hello mister sunshine.

I can smell summer when I drive now. I am listening to more country, which is a sure sign that summer is approaching.

However I have run across some songs that disagree with my stomach. Such as the BS one about a flower. He sounds like a real loser. Let me pick it apart for a moment.

red roadside wild flower if I'd only picked you
Took you home set you on the counter
Oh, at least a time or two
Maybe she'd thought it through.

-um no. do really think that that is going to work? You didn’t hold her when she was upset? You didn’t watch the sunset with her? You didn’t attempt at making her laugh? Really? What did you do? You are selfish. You got that right. And no one likes you. Sometimes the truth hurts, man in the song, sometimes it hurts.

I do hope at times that I make the right decisions

But I try to pray about everything that I do…so that should beat off my worries of making the decision.

I trip a lot though. Mentally, spiritually, physically.

And I am still awake. Which means something is wrong.

I can fall asleep anywhere, no matter what….until now…and that one time…on the couch that was a foot too small.

8 o’clock class, how I love thee, let me count the ways.

I am reminded of my child hood. When I sat at the edge of a pond. It was sunny. I had very blonde hair…which was very long.

I need a haircut. With the mindset I am in I will probably go find some scissors and get to choppin’. Let’s pray I fall asleep first.

I wish I could get my degree in redneck studies, Dad. No joke. I hope that my cap doesn’t really upset you either, cause contrary to popular belief, I don’t like to upset you.

I skipped supper again. Stupid.

Time to wash my face, brush my teeth…and get up in……..4 hours……

Work is gonna rock tomorrow. Rock harder than Ozzy at a Spears concert.

But here’s something else I wonder about: pickle jars. And bird houses. And when the empty jar will get returned…and then filled with birdseed. And sometimes I wonder if cab drivers will let you leave your birdhouse in their cab until they come back and pick you up.because they should..so it will freakin be out of my line of vision.

Working with people has made me rude. I should probably have a job where I just work with paper and cardboard boxes.

There is a toad sitting in a jar on my table. I hate toads. Ever since I stepped out of my car with bare feet that one summer night…and the sole of my foot hit the back of the toad…and it made that noise…and I screamed..and had to wash guts off my foot…I have hated them. Why the freak is it on my table?

Goodnight.