I've been out of it the entire day. Even having irregular sleeping patterns (i.e. sleeping from 5pm to 1am) and waking up in a completely different room.
And my dad doesn't understand several things:
1) When I ask him once not to comment on my weight, be it good or bad, I expect him to be kind enough to oblige.
2) The constant spitting, grunting, mumbling, hacking, coughing, and wheezing, all without covering his mouth or any other move to do me the kindest curtiousy is utterly disgusting.
3) Making comments about Michelle Kwan's skating and expecting me to agree with every single one of his opinions is quite tedious, especially while I'm trying to finish my homework.
4) This damned blog is personal. If I ask you, pop, to stop reading, I would be forever greatful if you did.
And accents of any kind are annoying me at the moment.
At 3am in the morning I'm stuck working on a mountain of homework (I hyperbolize not, especially with the sanding and preparation of my self-portrait piece), beating myself up for eating too much today (and something even worse), psyching myself up to act happy at school, and wondering how Romeo and Juliet are at this hour.
To top it off, I'm cold.
And incessantly whining. Like most of my friends, I tend to whine a lot.
But that's because I don't whine openly, and this is the only place I am able to do so. So nyah.
::mwah::
I need more coffee.
. . . . . posted:||2:46 AM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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