|I’m an idiot. Please feel sorry for me.
||[Mar. 18th, 2007|08:37 pm]
Spinning 45 Ballerina
|||||candy darling-young hearts run free||]|
Tomorrow I have to do this presentation thing at university that I haven’t started working on yet. It’s at two o’clock so off course I’ll be able to finish it and blah, but I really don’t want to. I spent the night in the apartment I’ll soon be shearing with three other girls, it’s five minutes from university and seven minutes from work. The room is tiny though so I have to leave loads of stuff behind. My bed probably won’t fit either, it’s not important though, I sleep way to much as it is.
St. Patrick’s day is a horrible invention, and especially if you’re favourite night time haunt happens to be an Irish-pup. I don’t really need an excuse to drink, life is my exuse, (my wicked boring useless life). I had fun though, especially before we vent out when we sang singstar. Eighteen people (buy my count) cramped into a tiny living room. I was screaming my head off as usual. Lost track off people buy the end of the evening, anyways… I’m a lazy, bleeding, vomiting mess. I’ve taken a shower but it didn’t wash away the apathy.