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mood

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pessimistic

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I discovered that April was National Letter Writing Month. This makes me sad because I like to write letters, and I have no one to write to. I could write a letter right now, in this free time. But nope. Not gonna happen.

I've (and most of you who read this) been invited to Chelle's birthday part. It's on mother's day. You know, the day I already have to work, then I should probably do something with my mom, and then I have to work the next day. I feel I should go, but I happen to know for a fact that I won't like most of the creatures she's invited. Plus there will be lots of drinking, and most likely lots of smoking. The kind of smoking I don't get along with. I used to be fine with it, but after working where I do, no so much anymore. I don't like being around stoned people. On the other hand, I do miss Chelle, and there will be some people I do like there. Does the good outweigh the bad? It's hard to tell.

I spend a lot of my time feeling much to mature to hang out with some people, and much to immature to hang out with the rest. It's all because I don't smoke weed, go to clubs, go to bars, and I hate concerts. I don't get myself sometimes.

Oh, wait... It's because I hate people. Got it. I'll have to remember that.

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mood

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bitchy

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Yes, I know how few people actually enjoy their jobs, but most aren't surprised that they actually keep showing up for it.

This month I'm paying off one bill, and next month I'm paying off another. Hopefully by my birthday I'll be well on my way out of debt , and be able to quit Ragstock. Cutting down to two days a week won't help, I want to be out of there. Besides, the Professor will be leaving, and while I have started slashing clothing on my own, Monday nights will never be the same.

I wish I had free time to spend with my friends. I apologize to all of you, Kattghoti, Seamstress, Acanthi, everyone. I had time and a reason to call Chelle today, and I couldn't find her phone number. Horrible person, I am.

Saw 1984 for the first time in years today, and I was so happy. Chelle had informed me that he was living and working in uptown again, but the information just flew out of my head, as so many things seem to do lately. He was sporting a Pompadour, leather jacket, and blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up. Rockabilly punk style, which was a surprise, because he used to have no style. Uptown seems to effect everyone that way. Or, maybe it was the air force. He took an application, and told me to call the theater, and he'd get me in for free movies.

I wanted to say more, to ask if he wanted to get together sometime. He was always one of the coolest guys I knew. I suck at making friends, even when they were my friends once. Yippie for people skills. Oh well, I don't have time for the friends I already have.

Screw it.

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mood

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amused

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His girlfriend's parents now have a restraining order against him. He was hauled off to the loony bin, and then to some sort of detox\group home where he has to stay for two months.
Now he says he's going to pay m back the money he owes me, and I don't have to talk to him to get it. That, at least, is an improvement. I doubt I'll get the money, but before he wanted me to be his friend, or else he wasn't going to pay me back.