Sixteen

How come whenever I really want something to work out, it doesn't? I mean, to be honest, life is pretty generous about swinging my way in most regards, but it seems like when I really really want things to work out, they just don't. More triflious (not a word, but whatever) things usually pan out, but it's just like when I really, really care about something, it falls through an endless chasm to a quarrantine chamber.

Anyway, today, after getting eight hours of sleep last night, I was completely exhausted all day. I fell asleep in 50%ish of my classes. Then I left before soccer. I would have left during school, but the nurse was being bitch-tastic, and it rubbed off on my mom, who basically was like, "don't come home, the nurse doesn't want you to." So I stayed in school and slep through history and stats and lit, particularly through stats, until Elaine woke me up for a quiz. Which I might have done okay on, not sure. Anyhoo, so I came home and slept from 3:30 until 8:30, and then I'll probably go to sleep very soonly.

Why does it seem like the people you would do the most for never repay you the favour? Is it a lot to ask of a best friend to keep one promise, after breaking several in the last few weeks? Aparentally so.

Anyhoo. Carmina leaves soon. I'm still bumemd that we never went to Coventry, partially because I slept too much, and partially because she went off with her own plans yesterday.

Uhg, why am I so tired?

I still have that horrid feeling of detachment. I don't like it. Hopefully, once I'm done with El Futbol once and for all, the feeling will go away, and I'll be able to return to living the life. What life? I'm not sure. Just a life.

My battery's low, I'd better go.