What I hate and what I love and a little about the weekends
December 01, 2001 @ 3:55 p.m.
I hate British literature. I hate html. (It hates me right back, I'm sure.) I hate working when I don't feel like working. I hate my toes being cold. I hate not knowing what others are thinking. I hate pettiness.
I love the word wonderlicious. I love raindrops (but not on roses; that's too cliche). I love looking at men -- it's ever so much fun. I love the first time it snows. I love Christmas. I love to fly.
Well, it looks like another long and boring night for me, on a campus that lives out of their suitcases and prays for the weekend so they can go home to Mom's home cooking and their old high school friends. Me, I'm eight hours away from anything familiar. I don't want to sit at home tonight -- it's the weekends that always get me, make me hang my head in grief and boredom. Me, I dread the weekends and the boredom that never ends.
Last night was a bit of a panacea to that boredom, but I'm still halfway concerned. What the hell does Matt think of me, anyway? Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why do I ask rhetorical questions?
<< | >>
- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006