I have so much to do, and such a short amount of time before I crash and fall asleep.
Elizabeth called me, asking to get some picture for Journalism, a pictures that were ridiculously easy to find, so I had that to do. We ended up talking on the phone for an hour, basically talking about Journalism and what we do/don't like about it and what does/doesn't need to be done to fix it. It was a good contructive "bitch" about the class, and I think that we both pretty much needed it.
I've now given up on my Psychology. I even went to Rite Aid when the tornado-like winds were going insane (and I was wearing PJ's) to get flash cards for vocabulary, but I don't care. If I bomb the test I'll make it up later, who cares. I'll study for the later ones.
I had a good time with Zack after disaster rehearsals. Lots of spooning and making out and hanky panky, and I needed every minute of it.
So yeah, My Dad called my cell yesterday and left a message. Can you say ASSHOLE!? He was like, "Hey dear it's your Dad. Just wanted to see how you're doing (Well I'm just fine and dandy father, and how are you on this lovely afternoon?)", and then he later explains how he's home all the time because he doesn't have a job anymore. Yeah, I know, he holds jobs so well doesn't he. He wants me to call him when I get the message. And how long have I been waiting for him to call? Approximately 3 weeks? He can wait three days for that letter to get there, for him to realize how horribly he's been treating me without even realizing it. He has no idea how I'm feeling, too, or his message on my cell would've been a Hell of a lot different sounding than that. I mean, I know he's not the most emotional person in the world, but if he had any idea how I feel because of him then I'd at least hope that his tone would've been a little different.
Oh sweet, Patrick bought Egg Nog. Hoorah. I love Christmas.
Tomorrow's Friday. I don't have to work at all this weekend. *sigh* Life is good.
