We find a way to disappear.
Sunday nights are depressing. There's not much worse than sitting around on Sunday night waiting until you have to get up at 3 in the morning to start another shit week. I guess the problem is the shit week more so than Sunday night.
Thank god for Rock of Love.
Speaking of t.v., My Boys comes back Tuesday! Yaaargh! I love My Boys. That sounds like I'm talking about my balls, but I'm not. It's a t.v. show. On TBS. With Jim Gaffigan. Revolving around baseball. Awesome.
Speaking of Gaffigan, his new special in on Comedy Central right now. Too bad I have to watch Rock of Love. I'll catch a re-airing of Jimbo.
I think I'm just going to start reading whatever I want instead of wasting time doing shit homework.
Tuesday morning is the big day. By about noon I will know my fate. Hopefully my punishment is not too severe. Though, I have this sinking feeling that it's going to be really bad. If it is, it will crush me. I fear this.
"Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way"
So, I was riding in the car today with my mom and my grandma and I got to thinking about aging and how bad it sucks. I'm almost 25 and that is scary. My mom is 50 and that is really scary. And my grandma is 80-something-or-other and has no clue what the hell is going on. If my next 25 go as fast as the first 25, (and I'm guessing they'll go even faster) I've got some serious living to do asap. Jesus.
Fuuuuuuuck Mondays. I gotta get outta here.
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