11 pm on the day of the Apocalypse. I don't know about the rest of ya'll, but I'm still alive. The rents made all of us kids stay home today (see yesterday's post about the gun scare), but everything was fine besides the choir teacher setting off the fire alarm.
The girls missed their Christmas parties so we baked wonky cookies (oat meal raisin cookies with almond bark, cherry chips, crushed candy canes, and cocoa powder that were died purple) and corn muffins dyed every color imaginable. We also decorated a little tree that gramma brought over for the kids a while back. When we ran out of icicle string and shiny balls we added fridge magnet letters. Oh, and the star is a half cup measure that is partially melted. It's beautiful. :)
I called
Fuck. I had like 5 paragraphs written after this about the human condition and trusting people and being messed up in the head, but blogger ate it. Shite. Oh well. Long story short I left a message for therapist Lady A yesterday so in case anything happened she wouldn't freak. I don't trust people or ask for help so doing that should be a big milestone but it isn't. Yeah. That's about it.
Does anyone else feel kinda disappointed that the world didn't explode in a ball of fiery doom today? I am, a little bit. I mean, I don't have any particular wish to die, but there isn't really anything in my life or future that I could look back on and say damn, I wish I hadn't missed that. There's nothing I really have worth fighting fate for. Honestly my biggest concern Thursday was that if I died Friday I'd miss Saturday's new My Little Pony episode. But since today was a fail and life went on, nothing has changed. Quite literally. I still have to grow up and get through life, I still have to get a job, I still have to go to college, I still have to pay taxes, I still have to finish my English journals. Everything is the same, and it sucks just a little bit.
No comments:
Post a Comment