I've always had the house to myself. A couple days and then it was mine again. Every single ******** day. It's always someone. Sometimes they're recurring. I just want the house to myself and I only need one day. One morning. One afternoon. One night to myself to get some things that need to be done, done. ********, I'm going to explode. No one was supposed to home tomorrow morning. Little brother's at a sleep over. Mom will be at work. Surprise, house cleaners. I wish we had unpickable locks in our house and my room was sound proof.
ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ
Also~ Tracey's been keeping in touch. She's quit smoking for good but her dad's still an a**. She's dyed her hair blonde and is planning on keeping it that way. She's coming to San Diego for Winter break! Unfortunately Kay is staying in AZ. She misses you, John. I don't have her number but you can PM me for Tracey's once you get a new cell or find your old one if you ever go fishing.
AND I murdered my spray-on tight jeans. They are now booty shorts. I'd say they're better than my pink or black pair.
*sneeze*
Alpharhythm · Fri Jul 18, 2008 @ 10:32am · 1 Comments |