oh yay, it's Friday
2003-04-25 / 9:12 a.m.

Dear Diary,

I came across another diary who thinks you suck too. You suck today but as you see I'm still here writing to you.

We're going to San Francisco tonight, possibly, maybe, highly likely, for dinner, for walking around, for who knows what.

I don't understand why I'm so angry.

Booger painted my nails purple. I bit them all off, but before that they'd been growing out so nicely. Who am I kidding... they've never been nice, not attached to the ugly sausage like digits inherited from the sperm donor.

I want to go to sleep, don't wake me up, don't bother me. Let me do nothing. Let me cry if I have to. As it is now, I'm stuck here at work.