I feel all sick-like today and wish I had my baby here to take care of me. ((I'm a selfish little beast aren't I?))
I stopped at walmart and bought 2 new books to read and some crayons to color with. Now I need to go down in my room, clean up a little bit, maybe play some Xbox and take a nap. Sounds good to me.
Anyhow. I am a little upset lately. I was reading my old handwritten journal from highschool and I ((oddly enough)) used to write really well. I feel like everything I type out on here is pure shit anymore and I wish I could write with as much emotion and insight as I used to. What's up with that?
Maybe I'm just getting old... or maybe this diary is... I dunno really.
Welps. I'm off to lock myself in my dungeon of a bedroom. Fun for me.
Yayness.