my mind keeps drifting else where and I could not concentrate on the task on hand; my body ached from a lack of sleep; and my shoulders and arms are so sore from holding my ten kilo books, folders and bag....
I'm going to send David the mother essay tomorrow to fix. I know that I'm repeating myself a lot in the essay, but hopefully he can fix it. I can't write anymore on it. I'm going to start working on my Hamlet essay tomorrow. Doesn't my weekend sound like fun? Hah.
Today, I hung out with Lizzie, Tu, and Beethoven. It was good until I had to go home. Beethoven drove me to Eastridge since my mom has no idea where Lizzie's house is and she saw Beethoven and accused me for being a whore. Then, she was trying to play the good parent saying you have to tell me where and when you're going out and who you're going out with.
What is this? You trying to care? That's actually quite shocking, but sadly you're too late. I don't care what you think of me anymore.
Tomorrow I have a family reunion. I'm not looking to forward to it at all. Hello Mr. Bucket of Tears, I haven't seen you for a while.
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