Dear Diary,
I’m absolutely exhausted. Head pounding, eyes threatening to roll out of my skull. And no, it’s not because of a quiz this time—it’s a midterm. The one I was supposed to study for until my head started trying to split in half. On top of that, I’m starving, but I didn’t bother cooking anything because *surprise!* the water in the kitchen has decided to go on strike. The dishes are clean, though, so at least there’s that small victory. I don’t want to create some chaos by cooking and dirtying more dishes that would just sit there mocking me.
I had French toast with honey this morning, thinking it would sustain me through the day. Hilarious. Now my stomach is groaning in agony.
Honestly, I feel like crap. Or maybe I’m just fed up. Can’t really tell the difference anymore. I’m stuck in this depressing dorm, and all I want is to get out. But *alone*? No thanks. I hate going out alone. Let me explain. My friend Janet? She lives an hour and a half away. Yeah, like she’s really going to come here just for me to feel less pathetic. And Bethany? She’s a ten-minute walk away, but I don’t think I’ll see her unless there’s a guy involved. You know the type—over the moon if some guy hands her a rose. That’s who she is. So yeah, guess I’ll just sit here, alone, in my little fortress of misery.
Anyway, that’s it for today.Guess I will just sit here and stew in it a bit longer.