I am now among the ranks of college graduates who move back home. You know what that means….
Packing is making me sad, not moving. I want to go. I’m ready. But packing means I have to go through everything from the past year.
I wish I was tired enough to fall asleep so I didn’t have to think about how my ex is right around the corner.
There are many things I’ll miss when I graduate.
Drama is not one of them.
I know it is in the nature of the Theatre Department to raise us to be gossiping fucks, but my god. I feel like anything I say is going to be twisted into something it’s not.
6 more days and I’ll be free.
Ok. I don’t know what’s come over you boys, but I am not someone to be toyed with and I am really confused as to why all of a sudden you guys think I’ll do whatever you want whenever you want.
Oh so am I going to have to wait another 4 months for you to grow a pair?
How many times have I cried to Dan this semester? I don’t know, but I’m going to cap it at 5, which is probably being generous.
After tonight’s “fun”, I’m isolating as much as I can. That’s where I’m at. I love everyone very much and I know they love me. And it’s me, not you. I just can’t deal.
I forgot how much better it is to sit upstairs in the DC. There’s no one to bother you.