Today I wore a spaghetti strap top under my sweater. I took my sweater off, and wore the top with pride. I was in the dress code, but just barely, the neckline was right on my chest and the straps were about half an inch, and the material was thin. Wearing it felt nice. I liked the attention and compliments and I felt pretty. I didn't like that I had to plunge my neckline down to hell to get those compliments. I made up some excuse about drawing on myself when other kids saw my horrendus tattoo- good thing I'm surrounded by idiots and they belived me.
I've got the hiccups, and I've been drinking more and more water. Things are going swimmingly, I suppose. Life is mundane and the days are blurring together as they usually do. I don't like being so depressed every day.
I keep thinking about my exes and freaking out. Something tells me I haven't seen the last of them. I got really anxious last night, to the point that I had to suck my thumb to calm down. It was humiliating. I think I should quit being such a coward and deal with my worries head-on, but the problem is that my worries have no head, because they don't exist. I'm getting scared over nothing.
I have loads of work I need to complete as a product of being out sick for a few days. Lots of stuff from Math and English. I don't want to do them, but I guess I have to, or else I'll fail. I need to write a suspenseful story. I know I'll get at best a B, because I'm very bad at writing.
Once again, Michael.