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2002-04-20 - 12:25 a.m. Bad Day I had a bad day again She said I would not understand She left a note that said I'm sorry, I I had a bad day again She spilled her coffee broke a shoelace Smeared the lipstick on her face Slammed the door and said I'm sorry, I I had a bad day again And she swears there's nothing wrong I hear her playing that same old song She puts me up and puts me on I had a bad day again She said I would not understand She left a note and said I'm sorry I I had a bad day again Nooo... And she swears there's nothing wrong I hear her playing that same old song She puts me up and puts me on Oh I had a bad day again She said I would not understand She left a note that said I'm sorry, I I had a bad day again She left a note that said I'm sorry, I I had a bad day Nooo Nooo Nooo Nooo Alright Oooooo Ohhh Sorry.. I love that song. It's just how I feel sometimes, ya know? Like I don't wanna share my problems with the world. I don't really wanna have this diary be just about me complaining about various bad things in my life. So if I ever get that way, hopefuly I'll notice cuz I don't think anyone's really reading this. I got my knee taped today at physical therepy. It's an odd sensation.. but DAMN! does it feel good. :) Just thought I'd share. :) WEEEE! It's late. I'm just writing for the sheer satisfaction that shits and giggles can produce. :D Love me anyways? You know, I think I'm gonna take a sabbatical from worrying about boys. I mean, they don't care, so why should I? Everytime I get a crush (as fifth grade-like as it is) I get all stupid aroudn the person and usually end up feeling even worse about myself. Ahhh, the charming parts of being a teenage female. So, hear that boys: I'M TAKING MY COFFEE BREAK! OOO! Book reccomendation: "The Jungle" by Upton Sinclair. It's about this Lithiwainiun (don't even ask for correct spelling) immigrant who tried to make money in the early twentieth century America (Chicago to be exact). It was the book that basicaly started the whole idea of grading meat. The book tells grisly tales of what happens in a meat paking factory, where Jurgis works for less than bare minimum salary. When someone's finger was chopped off (as often happens when dealing with fast, sharp knives) no one cared. Just keep processing it. Makes you kinda glad to have the school food we have now, eh? Atleast we don't have fingers with our fries. blah. I think I shall go. "Hotel California" is almost done downloading and I have full day tomorrow (when don't I have a full day?).... So, sleep tight my dears. Even if it's noon when you read this, sleep tight. :) Edith "All are lunitics,but he who can analyze his delusion is called a philoshipher." --Ambrose Bierce
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