Everyone seems to be getting sick lately, so I only imagine that I'm next. Sam called me today on my cell and I could immediately tell that his nose was stuffy, and I feel like I'm getting the same way. Bleh. (Should I blame work? =D)
Zack's entry freaked me out, and while he insists that it's not me, and that it's "Everyone else," I know for a fact that he's not telling me something. And I don't like it. He gets like this, and while he hasn't for a while, I refuse to play the guessing game with him. I'll just harbor a grudge that he won't open up to me about something. Because something is most definitely up.
Oh my gosh. I bombed my PSAT, you have no idea. I can't decide if it's for the fact that I don't care, or the fact that I have not once done good on a standardized test (they're the dumbest things in the world...I'm sorry, but they're just plain stupid!) or the fact that I breezed my way through it, anticipating a day with Zack and then a big rehearsal. I just bombed it, you don't need to know the score, just know that I did poorly. But my Guidance Councelor, Mrs. Morales, makes me want to vomit. Straight up. She's like my Aunt Lisa, she's so fake, whenever I have to go to her office she acts like she's my best friend and is always on my side and is "here to help me" (Isn't that what they all say?) But I bet that if I were to see her in the hallway she wouldn't know my name. First, middle, or last. I know, she's got a lot of students, but shouldn't she at least put an effort forth into maybe getting to know the people she's going to "help" get into college?
*phew*
Now that I got that off my chest...
Shit. I'm missing more of Joe Millionaire than I intended. Toodles.
