7:06 p.m.
November 08, 2003
Or VGV, as they call it in the states.

I hate running out of gas when I get home, just falling onto the couch exhausted. I suspect it's just from waking up at 5:45 AM.

I had to stop at a Taco Bell to get dinner. I locked my car and went to their bathroom. I got some food and sat down there to eat. I played Smashing Pumpkins and Detsl while eating, and finished all but half a Taco. I didn't really want to eat at all, but I was hungry. I felt like throwing up through most of the meal.

Maybe it was because before that, I'd been eating a toothpick. Actually digesting it, not just chewing on it.

"A man with a beard may frighten small children or dogs/but a mustache scares me more". Today there was a man whose mustache receded into his nose.

I'm so tired, but I really don't want to sleep. I'm lonely, but I don't want to bother with people. I'm not hungry anymore, because I ate, but I feel like making myself throw up, because it doesn't feel right.

It was terribly uncomfortable, sleeping in a minivan.

I don't like to read.

Emily is a man.

I had to move upstairs last night. I'm really sick of moving up and down. I would like school to be over. Unfortunate that that's not how it works.

I dislike looking at your face.

I am a cold, uncaring, and unstable person.
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