Boo friggidy hoo, I’m poor. Boo friggidy hoo, I’m hormonal. Surly Thursday and Phucked Phriday are coming up (ie, the bad PMS days of the month. Ah, the pill, where one can actually pinpoint exact days for these feelings).
Had a sook over the phone to Mum re: uni and Boyfriend stuff. Actually felt better afterwards. Huh.
My grandmother, with whom I live, fell over last week, and broke her hand. Bones. Like. China. So she’s in a cast for four weeks, and I have to do stuff for her. Grrr. Stupid allure of rent-free place to live.
Haven’t seen Boyfriend at all, but for Friday night. Before then, it was, like, the previous Sunday. Now I ‘might’ be seeing him tonight, but I dunno. He might have to work late. I’m getting so sick of him working 75-hour weeks. What’s better: a Boyfriend with an impossibly cool career, or actually seeing him? Insult to injury: he doesn’t even make that much $. And he worked all last weekend, and will be working all this weekend too.
Yes, yes, before I continue griping, I know it’s better than not being with him at all. But Jesus, I’d like to see him a couple of times a week, is that freakish and stalkery? Fuck no.
And I know he wants to see me more, but circumstances are too difficult.
So no talk about titty or cock today. Just me feeling down coz all I wanna do is spend time with the one I love (yes, yes, there you go. You all know I love him, just coz I haven’t told him yet, doesn’t mean I don’t).
Well, cry me a cunting river.
But tomorrow! The moodswing rollercoaster continues! Laugh with Desci as she shares with you the piss-funnyness of 1900 Freakline: messages from the saddest cunts around!
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